FREAKIN' FRIDAY
by ncsupnatfan
Summary: A butter fingered glitch has the Hunters seeing things from a new perspective. Confusing for Bobby, even more so for themselves. Help may be where it all began...in Lawrence. There's also an "easy" job on route... Case fic co-authored by ncsupnatfan and Chick Feed
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I would like to thank chick feed for suggesting we co-author a story. It was amazing how easily we have been able to blend our work and how like minds we are. It was a pleasure to join forces with her and let our imaginations run wild. I am honored to be posting our story and I hope you enjoy it.**

**NC**

* * *

**C1**

**Prologue**

-oOo-

Set on the outskirts of town, the place was a typical biker's bar. The air inside had a permanent blue tinge, courtesy of the tobacco and..._other stuff_...being smoked. The seating featured plain wooden three-legged stools, designed for numbers rather than comfort. It boasted three pool tables and a genuine Wurlitzer set up for rock lovers. Lacey, the owner, ran a good bar as far as her customers were concerned. Your Alcopops, wine and cocktail drinking types never crossed her threshold, which was just as well, as she didn't bother keeping any of that "Designer dog spittle" at the back of the bar. Lacey's served spirits and beers. If you_ really_ wanted something non alcoholic, she'd fill you a glass with tap water, and charge you for it. If you wanted a meal, she'd direct you to the nearest restaurant. Hers was a drinker's bar, that's what her customer base wanted, that's what they got. End of story. Most often, when the door opened and let a portion of the blued air rush for freedom, Lacey and her team would know, or at least recognise, the customer strolling, strutting or staggering in. The guy who had just strolled in, _Ah good, a strider_, she'd never seen before, but she certainly hoped he was set to become a regular.

"I'll see to this one Pete."

Whether it was because he was a first timer, or whether he was just that self-confident, Lacey didn't know yet, the guy didn't follow the normal procedure on entering. He didn't come a couple of steps into the place, pausing there whilst he checked out who else was in before walking over to the counter, he just walked directly over to where Lacey was waiting to serve.

"Hi sister...What whiskies do you carry?"

"Depends. You want the good stuff? Or the cheaper hit you faster, but come round harder?"

Despite the looks that gave Lacey thoughts of leaping on his bones right there and then, the guy was clearly frayed around the edges.

"Gimme the fast hittin' stuff. It's turnin' out to be that kinda day."

The guy's expression was a mix of sombre and utterly fed up. Hazel eyes met hers as she handed him a double.

"Looks like you need it."

Long chestnut hair fell over his eyes as he nodded and he shoved it out-of-the-way with a huff of exasperation.

"Stupid, crappy, stupid _hair_!"

Amused, Lacey hiked one eyebrow.

"So...Get it cut."

The guy looked at her like she'd just come out with the dumbest idea ever.

"Can't ... S'not mine."

-o-

Lacey watched as tall, dark and _Oh My God_ threw the whisky down in one hit. _Just my luck. Gorgeous, in my bar, and ten barrels of Looney Tune!_

As the thought left her mind, the bar door opened again, silhouetting another hunk of a man. He was shorter than the first, and not as bold and confident. As the door slowly closed, he stood in the entrance letting his eyes adjust to the light in the bar. She watched his gaze sweep the room, quickly coming back to rest on the hot thing in front of her. With a walk not as sure and determined, he made a bee line for the first guy.

She watched the one sitting stiffen and a hand reach for something under his coat until he saw the person out of the corner of his eyes. Relaxing, he growled just loud enough for Lacey to hear.

"Another."

"Dude! I have looked all over town for you."

The newest, short-haired, looker sounded mad, whilst taking a seat beside the taller one. Lacey heard the taller one huff whilst picking up the refill.

"Well you found me."

Lacey wiped a spot in front of the new arrival.

"What'll it be?"

Gorgeous green eyes looked up at her and she flipped, maybe there's a God after all she thought. Two lookers in one night, hopefully one was a keeper.

"Beer." Was what he finally got out as he rubbed a hand down his pent-up face. He watched the other throw back the double in one quick gulp.

"You might want to slow it down, remember, my body doesn't do well with whiskey."

"Bite me."

The younger's retort was dismissive and he motioned for another. Well so much for that bubble bursting, Lacey thought, they were _both_ one card short of a full deck as she set a beer down for the older one. She continued to listen to their conservation as she busied herself behind the bar.

"Look I'm as upset as you, but getting drunk is not going to solve anything."

"But it'll make me feel good."

"Yeah, until you're upchucking and I have to deal with your hangover."

"I told you to be careful, don't touch it, since we didn't know what it would do, but no-o-o-o you had to go and catch it."

"I was trying to get it in the box, ok? It slipped, it was reflex, I know I messed up, you don't have to rub it in. Look we can fix this; we just have to determine how to reverse it."

"Reverse the curse is what I'm hopin' you mean, yeah? _Not_ the object? 'Cos you know, there's gross, and there's_ blaaarghh. _An' reversin' the actual object would_ definitely_ hit_**blaaarghh**__!"_

"How many of those have you had already? _Obviously_ I mean the curse. We just need to do the research."

"Or maybe we could just ask Bobby?"

"Or _we _do the research."

"Ask Bobby?"

"Research!"

-o-

They get some real strange guys in the bar, Lacey thought, but these two had all the other ones topped. She had no idea what they were talking about, but it didn't sound good. Pouring the taller one another double in response to his signal, the shorter one give him a stern, disapproving face as the first gulped it down. Green eyes admonished the tall one.

"Come on, we need to get out of here, or I'm going to have to carry you back to the motel. _You_ need food."

The taller one nodded his head, sending his hair swinging again as he commented, reaching into his pocket for a couple of bills and tossing them on the bar.

"I could go for a bacon, double cheese burger about now. Haven't eaten all day! Thanks sweetheart, if I was myself tonight, we could have had a really good time."

Green eyes sputtered, tossing money on the bar as well.

"Dean,_ really_? And you're _not_ gettin' to poison me with the crap you eat...Thanks."

The short-haired one smiled at Lacey. _Be still my beating heart_, she sighed. Lacey watched the two dreamboats get up, the older trying to steer the younger toward the door as he stumbled. The younger grumbled and jerked his arm out of the others grasp and pushed thru the door_. Gotta be a full moon, they're getting crazier all the time_, she sighed picking up the money and wiping down the bar.

* * *

**So there you have it, chapter one. What do you think? Leave us a review, we'd love to know what you think.**

**NC and Chick Feed**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chick Feed and I would like to humbly thank all you have Faved, Followed, and Reviewed our story. It makes our hearts burst with joy. So the story continues, enjoy. **

**NC**

* * *

**C2**

"You're in no shape to drive, get in."

"Like hell, no one drives my baby."

"Technically, I am the older one now, so what I say goes." Sam smirked.

"Oh. Ok. Only this one time, dude, an' only 'cos you're right, you suck at holding your booze."

Dean groaned sliding down the side of the car as the effects of the whiskey hit. He was seeing two of his body hovering over him.

"I might be sick."

"Here let me help." Sam sighed pulling his brother up and fishing the keys from his jacket pocket.

"Need to get some food in you, I'm not to listenin' to you barf half the night."

"You're a good brother." Dean replied drunkenly, softly slapping his face. "An' a handsome s.o.b."

-o-

"Urgh!"

Sam grunted as he wrestled his own physical body up and into the passenger seat before lifting the long legs currently inhabited by Dean across and into the foot well. Dean's upper body promptly toppled sideways, leaving him lying across the driver's seat.

"Whoopses!"

Sam didn't realize how awkward it was manhandling his own large body, how did Dean do this? With a sigh of exasperation, Sam went around to the driver's side. Dean was already attempting to push himself upright, so Sam gave him the extra shove that he needed, before reaching across his brother to put the seatbelt around Dean.

"Gerroff! M'squashed!"

"Look, I made this mess, I'll figure out how to get us back in the right bodies."

"You gotta do somethin' 'bout this frickin' hair." Dean complained pushing it out of his face again, only for it to fall back into his eyes.

"You're _not_ cutting the hair!" Sam growled, starting the car and heading for a diner that was near their motel.

-o-

Pulling up outside the diner, Sam turned to look at, well, _himself_. Long legs awkwardly snuggled into the foot well, arms laying across his stomach and with his head lolling back, mouth hung open and sporting the first signs that a drool string was about to make its appearance, as his body breathed in through its nose, doing a fair Polly Pig impression, before exhaling a whisky fumed haze back out of his mouth. Sam wondered what would happen if he got his own body back right now? He himself hadn't had a drink and his head was clear, so would he feel fine? Or would he be subjected to his brother's legacy and the demise of two-thirds of his brain cells?

-o-

In his mind's eye, Sam re-played that awful moment when, held safely in his padded glove covered hand, he went to pop the shrunken head into the curse box. His fingers moved clumsily in the thick, heavy gloves, he lost his grip on the head, and instinctively caught the damn thing in his un-gloved hand. The look on Dean's face had been priceless, but then Sam was suddenly looking at his own, _horrified_, expression and, at the same time getting the distinct feeling that his distance from head to the floor was less than he was normally used to. Initially, inside Sam's body, Dean simply froze on the spot, his mind working quickly to digest what had just happened. Then he reacted, becoming like an all prowling, raging sabre toothed tiger, or a nuclear war head aimed directly at Sam. Sam had learned some new and very exotic sounding words at that point.

-o-

Unhappy already at Dean's treatment of the body that didn't belong to him, Sam roughly nudged Dean awake.

"Diner. Food."

Walking behind Sam, Dean's feet _a__lmos_t managed a straight line as they drifted him along towards the bright lights of the diner. By now Dean was feeling decidedly unwell, however, that didn't stop him from taking the opportunity to critically inspect his own rear view. Once inside, Dean simply let himself drop down onto the seating in the booth Sam had found, and gave his brother a sloppy, satisfied grin.

"My butt's perfect."

Sam scowled.

"It might be yours, but while I'm_ wearing_ it, eyes off! See the menu? You can order anything you like from_ this_ section."

Dean obediently stared at the section that Sam had indicated, his frown becoming deeper by the second.

"Sammy? Where's the food part? This' all fancy freakin' top dressing. S'the crap you throw away, so's you can get to the actual _food_ under it."

"That _is_ the food part. That's what's known as healthy food, food that's good for you. Now shut up and choose."

Dean gave the list another glaring at. When he looked up, Dean unknowingly fired off Sam's favourite weapon straight at his younger brother. Sam felt himself falling, helpless, knowing instantly that he was done, he was finished, and there was no-one could save him. Just like that, in a split second, it was game over for Sam, from the moment Dean shot him using Sam's very own puppy eyed look. Sam stared at the look he so often used to get what he wanted, the effect was deadly.

"_Saaaamm_. If you make me eat this I'm gonna choke on all the green stuff and then _you'll_ die and then you'll be sorry and then I'll go, _I warned you!_"

Dean took a deep breath and waited for his brother's response to the brilliance of his argument. A gum chewing waitress came and stood at their booth, jotted pad in hand. Sam sighed, defeated.

"Give him whatever he wants, the greaser the better."

Stuck inside Sam's body, Dean grinned.

-o-

"_Pleeeaassse_ Sammy. I'll do anything, _anything_! I will. Jus_'_..._Stop_ drivin' round _corners_! I _really_ don't feel so good."

Using the driver's mirror, Sam glanced at his brother sprawled out on the back seat, his knees pulled up to give his long legs some room. Sam almost began to feel sorry for his brother when he saw the pale green tinge which Dean's skin appeared to have taken on; but then he reminded himself that it was _his_ body Dean was wrecking, and any potential feelings of sympathy fled.

"How do you suggest I get us back to the motel without going around any corners?

"Dunno, don' care. You'll figure it, unless your ginormous brain's too squished up inside my head? ... Is it?"

"Dean? Shut up and let me drive!"

"Sammy? Need to pee."

Silence filled the car as both brothers contemplated the implications of Dean's need.

* * *

**Hey leave a review to let us know what you think. NC**


	3. Chapter 3

**C3**

-oOo-

Sam counted to ten and let out a soft sigh. He glanced in the rear view mirror at his body and the look of discomfort Dean was displaying on Sam's face.

"Look, it's not much further, you're just going to have to hold it until we get there, can you do that for me?"

"Crap." Dean muttered trying to decide if closing his eyes would make the world stop spinning or not.

"I _did _tell you Dean that the third glass of tea wasn't a good idea."

"But it was so good, sweet, cold, wet, with lemon an' ... _Ugh_..."

Dean swallowed as the sudden urge to vomit hit him. He gagged once, feeling it's hot squirt, burning its way up the back of his throat, then very slowly creeping a little way back down where it readied itself for an encore. Sam tried to encourage Dean to hang in there, quickly reacting to the signs on Dean's face that spoke of his internal struggle.

"No, don't Dean! You_ can_ hold it! Remember your baby! You wouldn't want to mess her up, would you? Only five more minutes, ok?"

-o-

In reality it was more like ten, but if it stopped Dean from barfing, so what? Sam pressed a little harder on the gas. Dean bit down a little harder and tried holding his breath in the hopes it would help, as he willed himself to not think about either of his problems. He could do it. Only five more minutes, Sam had said so. He could do that, he could, _possibly_... Relief flooded through Sam as he finally saw the motel sign up ahead and the parking lot. Their room, thankfully, was on the ground floor. They'd booked a corner room, near the exit, wary in case they needed to make a quick escape. Sam pulled into the parking space in front of their room and killed the engine.

"We're here. Just a few more seconds man, I swear."

Sam wasted no time in getting out of the car and opening the back door for his brother.

"C'mon. Let me get the door and I'll help you."

"Why's the car still movin' Shammy?"

Dean moaned, reaching up to pull himself across the back seat until his feet touched the ground. He couldn't see anything for the sweaty strands of long hair still persistently hanging in his eyes. Sam bent down over Dean.

"Come on. Let's get you up and inside."

Sam grunted, putting Dean's arm around his shoulder and hefting him to his feet. They staggered slightly as he steered them around the car door, Sam pushed it shut with his hand, and moved them toward the waiting open door to their room.

"Sammy..."

-o-

Dean gurgled whilst holding a hand firmly over his mouth to emphasise the urgency. Fear and adrenaline took over as Sam dragged him the rest of the way and straight into the bathroom. With lightening speed, he undid Dean's jeans, and pushed him down on to the commode. He kept his gaze adverted, even if it was _his _body; there were certain parts that he _absolutely_ didn't want to see while his brother occupied it. Handing Dean the trashcan, Sam beat a hasty and relieved retreat out of the room, leaving Dean to it. What was going to happen next in there was _not_ going to be pretty, and he had utterly no desire to witness it. When the sound of heaving at last stopped, Sam spoke to his brother through the small crack in the door.

"Are you ok?"

"Give me a shrek."

Dean's voice slurred as another wave of liquid nausea hit. Sam reached an arm into the room and turned on the vent hoping that would help with the smell. After a couple more minutes, he heard water running in the sink.

"You need any help in there yet?"

Hoping Dean would say _no_, Sam slowly opened the door wider, and the smell hit him full on, causing him to gag and slam the door back closed.

"_Sonova..!_ Open the window in there will you man? The whole room stinks of curdled milk. How's that even possible?"

Dean growled in response.

"Stop whinin' an' don't rush me dude."

-o-

Dean rinsed his mouth out the third time, trying to get the taste of bile out of his throat. Stepping over to the small window, Dean pushed it open, allowing fresh air to blow in. Standing there with closed eyes, he gratefully let the breeze dry his sweaty face. Outside the bathroom, Sam realised he could no longer hear any sound of movements.

"Dean? You ok bro'?"

"Yeah. Need shleep."

"Ok but, not in there. Right? There's a lovely...Comfy_ish_ bed out here. How about sleeping on that?

The door opened slowly and Dean began a stately, and over-cautious, walk; making his way slowly and carefully to the bed and trying to avoid a face plant. Sam followed on behind watching for any signs of him stumbling and thinking to himself that directly behind his brother in Dean's current state might not be the best of ideas. Dean carefully lowered himself until he sat on the edge of the bed. From there he attempted to lie back, only to have the room began to spin. "_Crap."_ he mused throwing an arm over his eyes.

"What'sup?"

"Wanna get off merry-go-round now please Sammy."

"Here, maybe this will help."

-o-

Sam disappeared, soon returning with a cold wash cloth. He moved Dean's arm and brushed his long hair out-of-the-way before placing the cloth over his brother's eyes. He wondered how many times over the years Dean had done this exact same thing to him? It was still unbelievable to see his own body sprawled out on the bed and for Sam to have no control over it. Dean sighed, then without prior warning and to his own surprise, he burped, grimacing at the taste.

"Want some water?"

"No, just shleepy s'all."

Sam watched as his brother's body began to relax bit by bit, and knew Dean was already falling asleep. Fatigue was pulling at Sam as well, but he wanted a quick shower before turning in. Grabbing his duffel, Sam headed for the bathroom, hoping desperately that most of the smell had dissipated by now.

-o-

With the hot water beating on his shoulders, Sam washed his brother's body and hair. It was a new experience, having so little hair to take care of. Turning off the spray he grabbed a towel and began to dry himself. He wiped the moisture from the mirror and gazed at his brother's body, turning slightly to get a better view. He had to admit, it didn't look bad; he could kind of see what women saw in Dean.

He slipped on his briefs and pulled his sweats out of the duffel. He'd put them on before he realised his mistake, that of automatically picking up his own bag, the bag he would dress from _if_ he was in the right body. Looking down at himself, he saw the bottoms of the joggers pooling around his feet, clearly too long for him right now. Huffing to himself, he stuffed the clothes back inside the bag and went into the room and rummaged through Dean's bag, hijacking clean sweats and t-shirt. Using Dean's toothbrush, Sam brushed his teeth and ran his fingers thru the little hair Dean had. Shaving could wait, Sam decided, Dean usually didn't do it every day anyway.

-o-

Knowing his body was not going to be feeling at its greatest in the morning after the whiskey Dean had tried to drown himself in, Sam searched out a bottle of aspirin and bottle of water. He needed to persuade Dean to take some now in the hopes of heading off the headache that he would certainly have in the morning otherwise. Sam called to his brother, shaking his shoulder and removing the wash cloth.

"Hey. Dean. Wake up."

Dean moaned and grimaced. His eyes remaining fixed closed, he patted a hand around his own shoulder, trying to find Sam's and push it away.

"_No_."

"Look, you need to take these and drink some water. It'll make you feel better."

"Not gonna."

Sam stared down at his non-compliant brother.

"Screw this!"

Despite Dean's moans and grumbles of protest, Sam managed to get Dean's head and shoulder's raised and determinedly push two aspirin through Dean's sulky lips, quickly following them up with the edge of a glass of water. Dean frowned, but gave in. Sam waited for Dean to swallow, before again moving the edge of the glass towards his brother, who unfortunately decided he'd had enough and was already turning his head away intent on burying his face in his pillow out of Sam's reach. Despite his weariness, Sam's reflexes were still fast, so only a small amount of water dribbled into Dean's ear as he was turning.

-o-

Dean's only response was to reach up, his eyes still stubbornly closed, poke a finger in his ear, and wiggle his finger around a bit. Sam sighed, putting the glass on Dean's nightstand before sinking onto the other bed. Lying down, he was too tired even to think about how they might reverse the curse, spell, or whatever magic had caused himself and Dean to exchange bodies. Sam drifted off to sleep encouraged by his older brother's lullaby of snores.

**-oOo-**

**Thank you to all who are taking this journey with us. Hope you enjoy. It would make us so happy if you would leave a review. NC and Chick Feed**


	4. Chapter 4

**C4**

Dawn's morning light filtered around the edges of the curtains as Dean tried to force his eyes to open. He squinted, as his vision finally cleared enough to see. His eyes scanned the room looking for his brother. He ran his fingers thru the unruly mop of hair and grimaced to himself. It wasn't a dream he thought to himself looking down the length of his brother's body. _No such luck_. The room door opened letting bright, blinding light in. Dean growled at himself standing with the door still open.

"Close the door!"

"See you finally decided to wake up. I got coffee."

Sam said set the cups and a bag down on the small table.

"Bless you." Dean conceded pushing himself up out of bed.

He stood beside it for a few seconds to let the dizziness pass.

"How long you been up?"

"Long enough to find out we do need to go to Bobby's. I need to use some of the books he has and talk to him about this problem. As far as I can make out, we're looking at one of three types of magic. First trick is to narrow it down to which one was originally used to put the curse on the head. We're due over at his place next week, so really we're just turning up early is all."

"How far away are we?"

"Probably eight to nine hours."

"You call him yet?"

"Are you out of your_ mind_, as well as your body? Call Bobby? This early? Uh huh, but _hey_, be my guest."

Dean grimaced.

"Nahh, think I'll pass."

"I got breakfast sandwiches if you want one. Nice and greasy, should slide right down."

"Damn you!" Dean whined as he ran for the bathroom.

Sam snickered as he grabbed a yogurt and banana from the bag. Dean sneered, picking up the coffee and grabbing the aspirin.

"Payback's a bi*tch."

Sam looked up innocently, batting his eyes.

-o-

Eight and a half hours later, the Impala rumbled down the driveway of Singer Salvage Yard and pulled to a stop in front of the house. Bobby frowned, looking up from the book he was reading, recognizing that engine sound anywhere. He wasn't expecting the boys for another four days and it was rare they turned up without calling, in case he was out working a job. It was always good to see them, but turning up unannounced? Only times that happened, was when there was a whole heap of trouble. Bobby put his book down with a sigh - _Here we go again. _He'd opened the door before either had a chance to knock. Bobby smiled as Sam walked by him.

"Sam! Good to see you."

"Guess again." Dean scoffed.

"Dean?" Bobby questioned as Dean followed Sam in.

"I wish Bobby." Sam says guiltily.

"What's going on boys?"

-o-

"Let me introduce you, I'm Dean."

Dean spoke from Sam's body. He continued, nodding to his head towards the figure of himself.

"And_ this_ is Slippery Fingers Sam."

"Come again?" Bobby asked as he followed Sam's body into the kitchen looking from one to the other.

"I kind of messed somethin' up." Sam said with remorse.

"Oh balls! What did you two idjits step into now?"

"We were storing some cursed objects into the curse boxes and Sam touched one, next thing I know I'm looking at my body from a different level."

Sam tried to explain things a little more fully.

"It switched our minds Bobby. We have all our memories, everything. It's our own brain, or in Dean's case what's left of it, but just not in the right body."

Dean piped up helpfully.

"Alternatively, it _could_ be the other way round. I might have the _right_ body, but gotten stuffed with the wrong brain!"

Both Sam and Bobby turned to stare at Dean, who glanced between them both looking genuinely puzzled by the stares of his brother and his second father.

"What?...I'm just sayin'!"

Bobby shook his head and hissed.

"This is going to get damn confusing."

Dean, in Sam's body, shrugged carelessly, mischief now glinting in his eyes.

"Ohhh, I dunno. It's had it's lighter moments. F'rinstance, like when I went to pee? Now _that_ was amusing!"

Sam cuffed Dean around the back of his head whilst Bobby stared at Dean in appalled fascination.

"You mean you had to ...? With _his_? ..._.Sonovabitch_!"

Sam narrowed his eyes and glared daggers at his smirking brother.

"Really, that's not the worst of it Bobby._ I_ had to as well...With _his_! Know what? Would've_ really_ been helpful if my _little_ brother here thought to warn me I needed a magnifying glass."

Bobby chuckled, but Sam wasn't finished.

"_Oh!..._Somethin'I forgot to tell you Dean. I've made an appointment to go see a specialist while we're in town. You know, get those _souvenirs _of yours sorted, ok? ... Right, I'll um, take our stuff upstairs now, shall I?"

Deciding to play on Sam's side for a change, Bobby shook his head and gazed seriously at the stunned looking figure standing in front of him, reminding himself that for now, this was Dean.

"_Dean Winchester_...I'm surprised at you lad! I thought you knew _better_ than to leave yourself unprotected? It's a damn good thing your brother's takin' care of your body, even if _you_ don't. I hope gettin' those souvenirs has taught you a lesson son?"

Bobby turned away from the startled Hunter.

"But,_ Bobby_! He's kiddin'! I don't _have_ any souvenirs, honest! Sam was making it up. You believe me don't you?...Right Bobby?"

Bobby kept his back to Dean, hiding the smile he was sporting from the younger man's view.

"Sure son. I _will_ believe you...Just as soon as you show me some test results confirming your in the clear."

Dean stared at Bobby's back for a couple of second, before spinning on his heels and making good use of the extra inches he now had on his legs to chase after his brother.

"_Sammy Winchester_! You take that back! _Right now_! Hear me?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Bobby grinned. Whichever body they were currently inhabiting, it was still good to see those two being brothers.

-o-

"Right. Let's have a look at this thing then."

Bobby sat behind his old desk in his lounge come office with the brothers sat opposite him. Dean passed the older Hunter a sackcloth bag.

"Here. Just don't let Sam near it. With the three of us here, who _knows_ what might happen if he grabbed it with his bare hands again?...Or, seein' as how I've got his hands, does that mean it's _me_ who should be kept away from it?"

Extracting the curse box, Bobby glanced up.

"Try this. How about neither of you touch it? I'd feel safer for one. Sam...Dean...Whichever the Hell you are, mind spreadin' me that cloth out on the desk?

Bobby nodded his head at a folded green cloth and Sam duly obliged. Seeing the symbols painted on the cloth, he immediately leaned forward curiously, attempting to decipher what they meant.

"Containment ring?"

"Similar. Whatever you put in the middle of the symbols is held in an area of neutrality. Even if it's something powerful, like our friend here, it can dampen down its effect."

As he spoke, Bobby opened up the curse box and, with his hands gloved, carefully lifted out the ancient shrunken head, standing it in the centre of the painted markings. Dean irritatedly scraped what should've been his brother's hair back out of his face yet again and held it there with one hand whilst he considered the cloth with interest.

"Here's a thought. Maybe if Sammy and me rub the cloth over ourselves, you think it would maybe neutralise the effects of the curse and let us be us again?"

Both Sam and Bobby stared at Dean before uniting to chorus _Idjit! _Dean faked offence. At least, he _hoped _that's what his current face implied, but it was like being used to driving the Impala, then unexpectedly finding yourself sat in British mini car, with a manual gear lever. Although the principle's the same, driving how your usually did would have a different outcome if you sat behind the wheel of the mini.

"Fine. You don't like my ideas? I'll leave you two geek heads to get on and do what you both find so thrilling! Bobby, what you got in stock? I might as well make dinner or something. Call if you decide you need my expert opinion?"

He wasn't sure either man heard him, their heads were together as they both looked for any clues on the shrunken head itself that might indicate what type of magic had been used to curse the object. Sam was very firmly sitting on his hands, as a reminder to himself to avoid touching the head whilst bare handed.

-o-

For a short time, Dean played with a mirror, trying to see how many facial expressions his Sam head could do. Moving into his patented death glare, Dean agreed with himself that the glare was _waaaay_ more effective on his own face, especially when backed up with a scowl and a low, growling voice. A voice that Dean decided he was missing right about now. He looked down at the clothes he was wearing. Everything was fine, until he considered the shirt. White background with purple stylised flowers, it was one of Sam's favourites, and Dean hated it. He wondered whether, whilst he had his brother's body, he should take it and buy it some proper shirts? This set his mind off down a different path, compiling a list of _Things I Could Make Sam's_ _Body Do_. Dean being Dean, his thoughts soon hit basement level, involving at least one consenting female partner. Dean's dirty grin grew even broader when he added in the brother baiting "selfie" potential. Dean decided to go shower and, at the same time, maybe somehow "lose" the shirt.

-o-

Grabbing clean boxers and jeans from Sam's bag, he then rummaged around in his own bag for a tee and headed into the bathroom. Closing the door, he suddenly hesitated. He wasn't wearing his own skin and, although he had devoted almost all of his life to taking care of Sam, including bathing his younger brother and all those other personal care needs that a kid has,_ this_ was different. Neither he nor Sam were in the habit of parading around stark naked in front of one another, if nothing else there would be a towel wrapped around their waist; and they _never_ stood around staring at each other's physiques, unless part of it needed first aid or field surgery. Dean gazed at the shower, and briefly wondered whether he should go ask Sam's permission before using it? Trouble was doing _that_ might create an issue where there hadn't been one. An idea occurred and Dean smiled, satisfied with his solution to the problem. When he _did_ climb into the shower, Dean was still wearing Sam's boxer shorts.

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**Thank you so much for the reviews and those who are following and favored us. Hope you are enjoying the antics the brothers are finding themselves in. As always, we love the reviews, keep them coming.**

**NC and Chick Feed**


	5. Chapter 5

**C5**

"Well geek heads, what's the verdict?"

Dean wandered into the room still towel drying Sam's hair.

"Crap! How do you ever get this mop dry?"

Sam gave him a bitch face, though it wasn't quite having the same effect on Dean's face as it did on his own.

"We think its hoodoo magic. Bobby found some symbols on the scalp of the head, hidden by its hair unless you actually looked for them, you wouldn't see them."

"Hoodoo? That's good right?"

"Well, it let's us focus our search."

"Ok. So, you two do the hoodoo that yoodoo, I'm doing dinner."

"Anything to not do research." Sam smirked.

"I wonder how you'd look with pigtails?"

Dean gathered up a wad of hair on one side of his head.

"Enough with the hair already!" Sam snapped at Dean, tossing a book at him that Dean easily dodged.

"I'm telling you five minutes and some clippers I..."

"_No_!"

-o-

Bobby and Sam continued carrying out a joint search using both Bobby's books and Sam's laptop. They both became aware of a mouth-watering aroma wafting in from the kitchen. Sam couldn't help but feel his mouth begin to water and he swallowed hard.

"Chows on!" Dean called as he set food on the kitchen table.

"Smells good Sa—Dean."

Bobby stuttered over the names, still not use to who was who.

Sam took one bite of his burger and arched his eyebrows.

"Dude! Why don't you cook more often?"

"Hey, we don't usually have a kitchen."

"Son, you can cook here anytime you want."

Dean beamed as he took a bite of his burger.

"Thanks Bobby."

All three actually relaxed for a few minutes and forgot their problems as they savoured the food. His plate cleared, Dean gave a satisfied burp as he put his hands up behind his head and rocked his chair back until it was balanced on its two back legs.

"Sammy, why don't ya go get a shower and let's hit the bar in town for a couple of beers."

Dean's voice sounded a touch too innocent to fool Bobby. The older Hunter glanced up into Sam's face and saw the devil of Dean glinting in his eyes. He had a feeling this wasn't going to end well if Sam fell for whatever Dean had planned.

Sam looked up and thought for a moment before answering.

"Sounds like a good..."

He paused as the gears turned in his head.

"Oh. You jerk! No_ way_! You're not going to a bar and hooking up with some girl in _my_ body!"

"Aw. Come on Sammy, it'll be fun."

"Do I have to handcuff you to the bed?"

"Sammy, you know I don't swin' that way, but if..." he suggested arching his eye brows at his brother.

Bobby watched Dean's face turn different shades of red, and then with no warning, Sam lunged over the table toward his own body. Dean's eyes opened wide and he instinctively jerked backwards, forgetting he had the chair delicately balanced. Tipping just that touch too far it teetered very briefly, then toppled over, taking Dean with it and leaving Sam splayed across the kitchen table, his hands grabbing at thin air. Bobby leapt to his feet and swiftly planted himself between the two hot heads.

"_Enough_! If you pair've got some steam to let off, take it outside and do it properly! My kitchen ain't the place to be sparrin'. Hear me? Or do I have'ta knock _both_ your thick skulls together, whoever's inside whichever one?"

Sam looked shamefaced up at Bobby, who was clearly angry, and slid himself off the table top, moving to stand almost at attention as he apologetically looked Bobby in the shins.

"Yessir...M'sorry Bobby."

Dean grunted as he rolled himself off from the fallen chair. Standing up, he rubbed at his back.

"Me too."

Bobby turned, folding his arms across his chest, he glared at Dean stretching Sam's body testing for injuries.

"You too _what_?"

Dean kept his head up, wanting Bobby to see in his eyes that he was serious.

"I'm sorry too. Really I am. It's my fault for goading Sam. I'll clean up the mess."

Accepting both apologies, Bobby shook his head no.

"Leave it. Take yourselves outside and do some proper sparring. It won't do either of you any harm to get used to moving in those bodies. Usual rules apply, light contact only. Now _git_! I'll be out to check on you and see how you're gettin' on soon as I've cleared stuff away."

Bobby watched and waited until both brother's had obediently slouched outside before shaking his head and turning to survey what needed doing in his kitchen.

"Bloody idjits."

-o-

Outside in the front yard, Sam and Dean took up their positions facing one another. It had been a long time since they had done any sparring and both were keen to put their new bodies to the test. Since they'd both reached their adult sizes, Dean had always recognised that Sam had a better reach that he did usually and he was curious to try out that advantage for himself. Sam was very aware that, whilst Dean was a few inches shorter than himself, his sheer strength and speed meant that Dean was nearly always the victor. Sam not only wondered if he could make use of those abilities himself whilst he was in Dean's body to win; he was also keen to see whether fighting in Dean's body might give him some new ideas that he could add to his own fighting skills, once he was back to himself? Even wearing Sam's body, Dean's stance was loose, misleadingly relaxed, a trick that had fooled many opponents into thinking they could get to him before he was ready for them. Dean grinned as he saw Sam trying to mimic the posture he had seen Dean adopt countless times.

"So Sammy. You stickin' to the old guy's contact rules, or do you actually wanna spar?"

"Bring it on dude" Sam sneered back as they started to circle each other.

Dean's grin grew wider. "Remember those words little brother."

-o-

Bobby took a last glance around the kitchen. Satisfied that all was back to normal he poured himself a mug of fresh brewed coffee and headed to his front door, interested in seeing how the brothers were getting on. Opening the door, his eyes were drawn to where the sparring was in full swing.

Bobby paused on his own threshold, his eyes taking in the sight of blood running freely from a cut above the eye of Sam's body. Switching his gaze to Sam in Dean's body, he saw fresh blood smeared around the top lip and under his nose. As Bobby angrily began to make his way across to the brothers, he saw Sam side step Dean and follow-up by driving a hefty punch into the stomach of his own body currently being occupied by Dean. Sam glanced at the fist that was temporarily his, marvelling in the strength that Dean's body had.

Dean grunted drawing in a quick breath and used Sam's long arms to get through Sam's defence and jab a blurring fast fist hard into the jaw of his own body as it was worn by Sam. Dean was impressed at just how much difference the length of reach in Sam's arms could actually make for him.

Sam grabbed hold of Dean around the middle causing them both to fall to the ground. Sam then moved to put Dean in a head lock until Dean threw him over his shoulder and pushed a knee into his back. Sam bucked, dislodging Dean and followed up with an elbow smashed hard into Dean's face. Blood instantly began to stream from a cut across the bridge of Dean's nose and Bobby was certain the blow had to have caused a fracture. He'd seen enough. Striding towards the warring pair who remained ignorant of his approach, Bobby grabbed the pistol at his back. Aiming into the air he fired off a round.

-o-

Everything stopped. Even the soft _thud_ caused by the body of a surprised-to-be deceased crow hitting the ground didn't tear Sam or Dean's stare away from the furious expression on Bobby's face. When he spoke, Bobby's voice was calm, placid, very much like a serene iceberg.

"Now. If you children have had your fun? We got work to do."

Bobby scowled at the brothers in equal measure.

"He started it." Dean mumbled wiping the blood from his lip and hair from his face.

"Like you didn't help." Sam retorted gently touching his already bruising jaw.

Bobby's glare grew harder, now having had enough of their antics.

"Keep it up, either one of you, and I'll be sending you _both _to your room where you'll be staying until tomorrow mornin'. Either of you two boys thinks I'm kiddin'?

"_No sir_!" they both said in unison as they gave each other the evil eye.

-o-

The evening was subdued, quiet, and Bobby liked it being that way. Dean was instructed to start wading through Bobby's books of spells and curses, looking for any that were relevant to body exchanges. Bobby wanted to know if there was a universal incantation or chant that needed to be recited when attempting to dispel this kind of curse.

Sam was directed to use his laptop to find out what he could about shrunken heads and the ways in which they could be used in spell casting. Bobby himself took on Hoodoo lore and magic as _his_ specialist subject. It wasn't long before the strain of sitting around quietly had both Sam and Dean yawning competitively.

Bobby stood up and headed for the kitchen, glancing at the two pairs of eyes tracking him expectantly, like puppies wondering if they're about to get a doggy treat.

"I ain't goin' anywhere excitin'. You can both get on with what you're doin'."

The Hunters turned back to their tasks. Once Bobby disappeared however, Dean stopped reading again and heaved a sigh.

"You got anythin' interesting yet?"

Sam massaged his eyelids with his finger tips.

"Lots on exactly _how_ to shrink a head, not much on them being used, except as a protective talisman. You?"

"Ways to dispel magic. Closest I've got, nothing yet specific to getting rid of curses thrown around by mini-heads. I'm beat. I'm gettin' set to call it a night. Maybe when I wake up, everything'll be back to normal?"

"Somehow I doubt it."

When Bobby returned carrying two mugs of hot chocolate - _Might as well go the_ _whole nine yards in treatin' 'em like kids_ - both brothers had their heads down studiously researching. Bobby smiled, he'd heard them both talking whilst he was in the kitchen. He wondered why it was that they both held on to the firm, and mistaken, belief that he was both deaf and blind? Exactly _how _old did they think he was? Bobby decided he didn't _really_ want to know the answer to that particular leading question!

* * *

**Chick Feed and I would like to thank all who have favored, following and especially reviewed our story. We are having so much fun co-authoring this story. Please take the time to review, it makes us jump for joy.**

**NC**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Happy 4th of July hope you enjoy the chapter. NC**

* * *

**C6**

Chewing on the last of his breakfast, Dean made certain he gave Sam a good view of what his own mouth looked like when it talked while it was still full of food.

"Baby needs an oil change and quick once over."

Sam stared at his brother in disgust.

"Dean! You're an animal!"

Dean grinned, pleased at the reaction he'd got.

"An' don't you forget it!"

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed.

"Will you need help with the car?"

"You? Under the hood of my baby? I don't think so dude. You stick with being the research nerd."

Sam hid his relief, he preferred to avoid any car maintenance stuff if he could, and a break from Dean, for however long, was welcome.

-o-

Dean grumbled as he tried to squeeze Sam's long, giant frame under the Impala. He picked up the breaker bar to remove the oil drain plug and hit his elbow on the frame, catching himself right on his funny bone After a few choice words, he finally angled his too big body were he could remove the plug and let the oil drain. Dean lay there while the last of the oil drain wandering the unthinkable, what if they could reverse this curse? What if he was stuck in his brother's body? Shaking his head at such nonsense, he replaced to plug and slid from under the car.

He was finding using his brother's enormous body to work on the car was a pain in the ass. His hands were too big to get into the limited spaces. He twisted and wiggled one hand back behind the intake manifold, carburetor, and hoses, only to wedge it in so tight that he found himself stuck. The more he pulled, the more trapped his hand got. He needed help and if Sam made some snide remark about him being stuck...

"Dammit! _Sam_ ... _**Saaam**_!"

He waited for a minute looking toward the house. Grumbling again to himself when there was no response, he wrenched his arm behind his back to drag his cell out of his jeans back pocket and speed dialled Sam's number.

"Hey Dean! Why're you calling me? What's wrong?"

"Need your help outside."

Trying to pull himself free again, Dean grimaced as he felt a sharp piece of metal scrap across his hand.

"I thought you didn't want me anywhere near the car?"

"I don't, but I need, um, a hand."

"Fine, ok. I'll be right there."

Hanging up his cell, Sam wandered ever so slowly out of the house and strolled toward the garage where Dean was working on the Impala.

"Finally! What kept you? Look...Your gigantic arm made me get stuck."

Dean pouted up at Sam, and then winced when he felt the sharp metal dig deeper.

Sam sighed, examining his brother's predicament very carefully.

"How did you ever manage that? What do you want me to do?"

"You need to get a stubby Phillips and take off a couple of brackets, then I think I can pull my arm loose."

"Screw driver, right?"

Sam rummaged in the tool box and picked up a screw driver, waving it at Dean.

"Yes, that's it, just don't ... drop it"

Dean watched as Sam dropped the tool on the engine before Dean had even finished his sentence. They both listened to the rattle of metal on metal, followed by silence. Dean laid his head on his trapped arm and sighed.

"Give me strength."

"Sorry man. Let me see if I can get it."

Grabbing a flash light, Sam leaned into the engine bay from the across the other fender. He began to look deep around the engine for the lost screw driver.

-o-

"I'm afraid to ask what you two are doing." Bobby remarked walking up to the brothers. "From where I am, it looks like you're being unnatural around the damn car."

"Wash your mouth out old man! Evidently Sam's gigantic hand won't fit where my normal sized one will."

"And you're stuck?"

"Why would you think that?"

"So what, pray tell, are _you_ doing Sam?"

"Dropped the freakin' screw driver."

Sam grunted as he tried to climb into the engine bay while Dean grumbled a warning.

"Just go careful. You'd better not break my baby or there'll be hell to pay."

"Almost there, if I can...just reach your stupid...short assed...arm...a little...further."

Sam strained as he pushed Dean's fingers closer to the screw driver, exclaiming triumphantly.

"_Got it_."

"Hold on. Before you two morons go and do something else stupid, let me try out an idea."

Bobby looked on the shelf for WD-40. Inserting the red straw, he began to inspect the arm and hand, determining where it seemed to be stuck. Once he spotted the problem areas, he sprayed the lubricant on Dean's Sam sized arm until the thick liquid was slip sliding down it.

"Now Dean, let the arm relax and Sam, you try easin' the hand out." Bobby instructed.

Sam moved to stand beside Dean. Leaning over, Sam had the freaky experience of grabbing his own disassociated arm. He began to carefully pull on the limb. Sam felt the muscles in the arm contract.

"Relax Dean, let me do it."

"I'm _trying_ to relax."

"Try harder, just let it go limp."

Dean leaned his head against the back that should've been his and put his free arm there for support. Dean concentrated on keeping his arm relaxed whilst Sam began gently pushing, prodding and pulling. Suddenly the hand slipped free.

"It's out! Oh, man! Look what you've done to my hand! It's bleeding. You'd just better pray there's no scar when I get it back."

Sam grabbed at the hand to check the injury.

Dean growled, jerking his hand back and holding it protectively to his chest.

"Back off, it's _my_ arm right now and I can take care of it."

"Come on that's needs cleaning." Sam ordered pushing him toward the house. "I don't want it getting infected while you're borrowing my body."

Bobby called after the brothers as they wandered off.

"Hey! That's ok. Don't you worry either of you...I guess I'll be puttin' the oil in for you then, shall I?"

Grabbing a quart to pour into the car, Bobby shook his head. They needed to find a solution to this body swap curse fast, before those two either drove him insane, or managed to seriously damage their host body, bringing down the wrath of its real owner.

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**Thank you for all who have favored, are following and have reviewed. **

**NC**


	7. Chapter 7

**C7**

Nearly a week had past and it felt like they were no closer to finding a solution than when they had started. Bobby continued to research ancient books, even pulling from the boxes in his basement. He'd made calls to a couple of his contacts with no joy. Sam and Dean fell into a semi-routine, at least Sam did. Dean was starting to get hyper at being in one place for so long, and a hyper Dean was generally also an irritating Dean. He wasn't much for the research part of the job, and only did it when he had no choice. He was beginning to go stir crazy.

-o-

Alone in his kitchen, Bobby was about to pour his first mug of coffee for the day when a sweaty and red-faced Sam, still inhabiting Dean's body, all but fell through the door. Startled by the unexpected drama of Sam's appearance, Bobby missed his cup with the coffee, pouring it over the work surface instead.

"Hell boy! You _wanting _to give me a heart attack? What in the blue blazes is after you?"

Sam leaned against the counter trying to catch his breath as he held up a finger to Bobby, signalling the older Hunter to wait a second. He gulped in several deep breaths, needing a good-sized hit of O2 before he could attempt to slow down his breathing.

"Went...went for...a 10 mile run...De-e's body no...no like"

Bobby opened the fridge and handed him a bottle of water shaking his head. He grabbed a dish towel and mopped up the coffee spill before it ran in the floor. Dean rounded the corner in time to see Sam panting heavily and holding himself upright with the counter.

"Sam? What the Hell? Are you _trying_ to kill my body off? I swear, if you do? I'm gonna keep _yours_ an' _you'll _have to make do with a rinsed out peanut butter jar!"

Bobby snickered as he sat himself down at the table with his newspaper.

"Evidently, your brother went on one of his runs. Looks to me, Dean, like your body didn't stand up to the challenge."

"Sam! You _know_ I hate the road running, are you nuts? You might've seriously sprained somethin' on me! Let me take a look."

Sam stepped back as Dean stepped forward, Sam raised both hands to ward his brother off.

"No way! Back off! You can't just decide you need to have a grope. Your body's _mine_ right now! I just wanted some air and exercise, which I forgot you don't do very often."

Sam moved away from Dean and sat in the chair beside Bobby. He sipped on the water allowing his body to cool down and his breathing to return to normal. Dean pointed his index and forefinger at his own eyes, then pointed his forefinger at Sam in the classic _I'm keeping my eyes on you_ gesture. He followed up by mouthing _Peanut Butter jar_ before going to grab himself a coffee.

-o-

"So, Bobby? We've all been at this close on a week now, and still zip. I gotta admit, I'm feelin' uneasy. I mean, what if the longer Sam and me stay swapped, the harder it gets to undo the curse? Man, we could be on a time-table here and not even know it."

Sam stared in wide-eyed shock at Dean.

"You think that's likely?"

"Honestly Sammy? I don' know."

"You _do_ think it might be. You're seriously worried we really _could_ be running out of time, and don't try to deny it...I _know_ you are!"

Dean affected a casual, unconcerned air.

"Really? You_ know_ I am, do you? You tellin' me I've miss something? What happened? Did you suddenly become a mind reader overnight?

Sam looked Dean straight in the eyes.

"First, it'd be a short read, believe me and, second? You called me Sammy."

Dean's forehead creased as he frowned.

"So?"

"So. You generally call me that when you think something's wrong and we might be in trouble."

"I don't! Well, not _just _at those times, I don't."

"Ok, but I'm not getting the sense that you're having a laugh and simply trying to wind me up right now. Or are you going to tell me I got that wrong?"

Dean turned away without further discussion, leaving Bobby again to try to calm the waters.

"Sam? Dean? Listen, I gotta admit,_ I'd_ been wondering about the whole permanency possibilities too, so I did a little side trackin'. Only way the curse becomes permanent, is if the shrunken head is destroyed while you two are still swapped. If that happens? The curse is pretty much cast and sealed."

Dean immediately turned to his brother, the relief coming over loud and clear in his voice.

"Sam...You gotta promise me you won't go anywhere _near_ that damn head. Stay well away from it, and I promise _you_ that I'll pimp your peanut butter jar for you. Deal?"

-o-

It was later that day that Bobby called Sam and Dean together into the study. The brothers both looked at Bobby expectantly.

"Ok. So I might've found a lead, but it means I'm gonna be away for two or three days. I need to go see an old friend who has some books that may be helpful. He's a day's drive east, already called him to expect me."

Dean glanced around the kitchen.

"So what are we suppose to do? Can we go with you?"

"Nope. You two are goin' to be busy."

"We are? _Please_, say you're not expecting us to spring clean this place?"

"Hmmm, hadn't thought of _that_ one!"

"Well don't. No way I wanna go falling over your hidden piles of porn mags."

"Never gonna be a problem, I ain't got any, I always borrow yours instead. Anyway, I'm sending you two off to stay with someone else who thinks they might just be able to sort this out, and I've got a possible case for you to check out on route...Though if that spring cleaning's a real option here?"

Sam's hair flew around as Dean emphatically shook his head.

"Oh no, I don't think so. C'mon Bobby, share. Where we goin'?"

Bobby wore an expression of mock uncertainty.

"If you're both certain?"

Sam was beginning to get impatient.

"Dean, shut it will you? Bobby? Just give us the info! Pleeease!"

"Ok. First, I got wind of a haunting a couple of hours from here, a little town called Highmore. Thought you two could check it out, seein' as how it's on your way an' all."

Sam nodded.

"Sound's good but,...On our way to where?"

Bobby switched his gaze between the two brother's, uncertain how they were going to react, but ready to take any immediate verbal battering they might dish out at first.

"Kansas...Lawrence...To Missouri's.


	8. Chapter 8

**C8**

The initial reaction was silence, during which a pair of green and a pair of blue-green eyes stared fixedly at Bobby. Bobby was caught off guard, silence hadn't figured in his list of possible reactions, so he hadn't planned a response. He went with _sit and wait them out. _Still no one had yet spoken when Dean stood up, and walked out of the kitchen without comment. For a brief time, Sam gazed at the chair Dean had just vacated, hearing the slam of Bobby's front door. When he spoke, it was without making eye contact with Bobby.

"I'm going outside to check on him."

Without waiting for Bobby to respond, Sam too stood up and walked quietly out of the kitchen and out the front door, glancing around for his brother. Bobby sighed. Removing his baseball cap he ran a hand over the top of his head and scratched at his beard whilst he replaced the cap. As much as he wanted to follow the pair, he knew it was better to leave well enough alone until they chose to come back inside, however long that might take.

-o-

Sam found his brother standing between two rows of scrap vehicles, each line of cars piled three high. Dean was rhythmically kicking the crap out of the front tire of an ancient Mustang. Hands in the front pockets of his jeans, Sam strolled between the cars towards his brother.

"Dean? Would you rather I left you alone right now?"

Still kicking at the tire, but with less strength behind it now, Dean shook his head.

"No."

Dean was obviously busy thinking, so Sam simply waited, happy to stay close until Dean was ready. The older Hunter at last stopped his kicking and simply rested his foot against the tire.

"I don't want to go back to Kansas Sammy. I don't."

Sam nodded.

"I get that. I'm not happy about it either. _But_, if that's where there's a chance of ridding ourselves of this curse? Well, I'll do it. I'll go there...In fact, here's a thought. What if Missouri doesn't need us _both_ to be there? You could go do the job Bobby's got for us, and then you come back here, meantime, I could drive on to Kansas and see Missouri.

"No."

"Fine. I'm assuming you've got an alternative suggestion then?"

"I said I didn't _want_ to go, not that I wouldn't. If anyone can tell us how to get out of this, I'd say it's gonna be Missouri."

"Why? 'Cos she's _black_?"

Dean stared at Sam in disbelief.

"_What_? _No_! Idiot! 'Cos she's a seer and a psychic! And personally, I'm pretty sure she reads minds. Or at least, I think she reads _my_ mind! Actually, now I'm thinkin' about it, the woman _picks_ on me, doesn't she?.._Huh_!... Anyway, Missouri always seems to know about stuff. She's just, I dunno, _wise_ I guess. And dad trusted her. I do too, and that's important. There's not a lot of people you and me can trust Sammy. We need to keep hold of the one's we've got... You _do_ realise you're her favourite, don't you? When we get there, I'm thinkin' _you_ should do all the talking."

Sam arched one eyebrow.

"Really? And what will _you_ be doing then?"

"Oh, s'easy. I'll be hidin'...Oops!..._Standin_' right behind you. You think it might help if I made me one of those tin foil hats? Stop my thoughts leakin' out to her?"

Sam felt himself relax again.

"Dean...You really _are_ hopeless, aren't you?"

"I try my best."

-o-

Bobby was still at the kitchen table where they had left him, he was reading three newspaper clippings when the brother's returned. Creating no big issue, Bobby glanced up and smiled.

"Coffee's still hot, help yourselves."

Sam headed straight towards the coffee whilst Dean diverted to Bobby and the clippings.

"I'm sorry? What was that Sammy? Would I like...? Oh. Yeah. Since you ask, I'd _love_ a coffee thanks Sammy. That's really kind of you to offer!"

Sam simply gave Dean the finger in response.

Dean turned away and picked up the smallest clipping that Bobby had. The header ran _Distraught dad claims girlfriend stole his son_. Bobby looked at the roughly cut square piece of paper in Dean's hand.

-o-

"That's the day after she walked out," he observed. "She stopped by here in an old wreck of a car with no break lights, her and a youngster. A little lad, he was three years old at the time. Kid looked scared and she was as twitchy as they come. Anyway, I asked her if everythin' was ok an' she told me she was getting away from the kid's dad. Asked me not to say anythin' if anyone came lookin' for them, said his dad wasn't to know where the kid was. Course, no one ever came looking and that was that. Close to six years later she turned back up in the area with the lad. Straight away she hooked up with the kid's dad again, slipping back into being his girlfriend, just like she had been before. The guy was a wreck though, never got over her takin' his son like that."

Bobby handed Dean the second, much larger newspaper clipping. In the picture, the woman was older, but it was clearly still her. Dean frowned as he read the headline. _Local woman and son found decapitated_. Bobby gave a nod of his head towards the clipping.

"That's two months after she moved back in with the kid's dad."

Bobby quietly handed Dean the third, and last, front page paper clipping. Dean didn't need to read beyond the header. _Man pleads guilty to murdering girlfriend and their son_. He looked at the date of the last clipping, June 1988, before handing the three clippings back to Bobby.

"Is the father still in prison?"

Bobby shook his head.

"Nope. Found hanging in his cell two weeks after sentencing. The usual, used the sheet off his bed, timed it for just after his fifteen minute suicide obs, too late to do much else but get the coroner in when they found him."

-o-

"So you think it's one of these three that's active?"

"I reckon so. Here. History of the house since 1988...I assume you two have had a talk?"

Sam came to the table and passed Dean his coffee before holding his hand out for the clippings and nodding at Bobby.

"We have. We both agree that neither of us particularly want to go back to Lawrence, but you're right. Despite her continuing reign of fear over Dean, Missouri's probably the best shot we've got to fix this, so Lawrence it is...Any kinda pattern showing up in the house's history?"

Dean passed the sheet of Bobby's orderly notes across to Sam.

"I'd say it's a yes. See for yourself."

Draining the last of his coffee, Bobby stood up.

"Anybody for breakfast?"

Two hands shot up into the air almost simultaneously.

"What a shock. Ok. I'll just put the call in to Missouri first, warn her she's gonna be gettin' two incredibly irritating' lodgers."

Bobby glanced at the brothers, grinning.

"Hey! _Extreme lodgerin'_...think I've just invented a whole new dangerous activity!"

Sam groaned, whilst Dean, picking up his coffee mug, slid around in his chair.

"Hold on Bobby. Why're you calling Missouri? Shouldn't she have already have felt

our imminent arrival in a dusty plant-pot, or damp teabag or somethin'? You know, if

she's as good as she claims to be?"

Dean smirked at himself and began to drink the rest of his coffee, just as one of Bobby's landlines rang.

-o-

It truly never failed to fascinate Sam just how far and wide one mouthful of coffee can cover when sprayed out of a human mouth, especially Dean's.

Chuckling, Bobby picked up the handset.

"Yeah? Hi."

Bobby gave Dean a wink.

"It's weird, but we were talkin' about you not long past ... Yeah, I told 'em...Uh huh.

Right. ... No, that's fine. ... Will do..."

Seeing his brother grow a shade paler, Sam grinned, mouthing _Serves you right_ to

him.

"...Yeah. Settin' out later today. That still good for you? ... _Really_? ... Lookin' forward to it. I'll give you a ring once I get close. ... Yeah, you too."

Hanging up, Bobby fixed his eyes on Dean. Dean himself looked slightly nauseous.

"Please, tell me that wasn't her..._Was it_?"

Bobby's serious expression was gone and he beamed at Dean.

"Right first time! No. You can get your frillys untwisted, it wasn't Missouri. It was just my lead checkin' I was still going over to his place.

Dean's eyes went wide and he flushed from the neck up.

"You_ totally_ played me Bobby Singer! I hope you know this calls for revenge?"

Bobby's beam grew wider.

"You bring it on, tough guy. I'll be lookin' forward to it!"

-o-

The two Hunters had everything packed and were good to go, when Sam suddenly decided he wanted to shower first. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine! Go get your stinky ass...Oh_, hang on...My _stinky ass... Into the shower so's we can get gone. And Sammy? Even though Little Dean's impressive, _don't_ let him tempt you! Got it?"

Frowning, Sam pulled a face as he nodded.

"Don't worries there bro', I've no_ intention_ of givin' Teeny Tiny Deanie a test drive. Can I go get showered now?"

Dean waved his hand magnanimously in the direction of his younger brother.

"You may go. But be warned, I'll know if Little Dean's been out to play!"

Sam glared at Dean in disgust.

"You know, not so deep down, you're nothin' but a dirty minded dick!"

Dean loved to play to his audience, especially if his audience was his easily embarrassed younger ... (_Um, authors? Right now he's my __**little **__brother!_ _Our apologies_ _Dean, you're right_ ) ... _little_ brother.

"Ha! _Dick_! Ev'rybody! Sammy said _dick_! Ha!

Sam walked away shaking his head and headed upstairs to the shower, muttering to himself.

"Jeeze. _How_ many miles to Lawrence? Not sure I'm gonna be able to stand it without muzzling him."

-o-

Bags packed and in the Impala, address they were heading to safely tucked in Dean's jacket pocket, Bobby and Dean were standing in the yard waiting for Sam to appear. Dean rubbed his hands together happily.

"I'm lookin' forward to this job. I'm curious to find out what this body does in a real fight."

Bobby huffed.

"You need to be extra careful, you hear? No takin' unnecessary risks. Think on Dean, it's not your body you're in, it's _Sam's_. Remember him? The one who you always try to protect? Way to do that right now an' keep him in one piece is to protect yourself. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"You put the curse box somewhere safe?"

"Safe as I can. It's wrapped in a blanket and locked inside a metal box in my baby's trunk, and I've got the key. Sammy can't go anywhere near without me knowing. And speakin' of. Where the Hell _is _he? Man, even in _my_ body, the kid takes twice as long in the shower than anyone else I know, an' it's not even like he's got all this stupid hair to wash right now!"

Right on cue, Sam finally appeared. Dean grumbled impatiently.

"It's about time Princess!"

"What? I had to get Bobby's research notes."

Sam held up some sheets of paper as evidence.

"Ok. Time to get gone. If you run into any trouble that you two can't handle, you just give this old man a call...

Bobby turned and began strolling, slowly, towards his truck, giving the brother's a back-handed wave and still talking to himself, ensuring it was loud enough for Sam and Dean to hear.

...I'll slip on my conti-pants, rev up my walkin' stick, tune in my hearin' aid an' turn that volume up high, then I'll set too an' hobble right on over. Just don't act all shocked if I've forgotten to put my teeth in, you know how bad this old age thing screws around with your memory! Course, _I _don't know whether it screws around with your wassit, 'cos, _obviously, _I've just plain gone and forgotten ev'ry single word I think I just said! Still, on the up side, once I've cleared up your mess, I can stagger my way back to the_ Old Fart's Home of Wake me up in Time For my Nap _an' sit on my pilestill the two of you go an' land yourselves neck-deep in the stinky stuff again._"_

Bobby's monologue came to an end as he settled himself down behind the wheel of his truck and started up the engine. Glancing in Sam and Dean's direction, he saw they were both leaning against the front end of the Impala, both with legs crossed at the ankles and their arms crossed over their chests. Jointly, they unfolded their arms and each began to mime sorrowfully playing their own invisible violins.

Bobby was still laughing out loud as he turned the wheel of the truck and headed out of the salvage yard.

Straightening up, Dean grinned and clapped Sam on the back.

"C'mon brother of mine. Let's do this thing."

He threw himself into the car and cranked it. The roar of the engine was like music to his ears. He pushed a tape in and threw the Impala into gear following Bobby out of the salvage yard and back on the road.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has favored, are following and who have reviewed. I hope enjoyed the new chapter.**

**NC**


	9. Chapter 9

**C9**

It was mid afternoon when the Impala drove in to the small town of Highmore. At first glance, it looked like any other small town USA. Dean pulled into the parking lot of a local diner after Sam bugged him about needing real food, not the kind you got at a gas station. Climbing out of the Impala, Dean stretched Sam's long frame to get the kinks out.

"So, what's the deal here?"

"From Bobby's directions, the house's on the outskirts of town. There's a local view that says it's been haunted for years. Nothin' suggesting before 1988 though. The current owner's moved the family into a rental, he refuses to let them stay at the house.

"Family being him, mom and son?"

S'right. The guy's tried selling it several times, but guess what? Something always happens and it doesn't sell. He'd started having it remodelled, some of the workers got injured, and now the rest refuse to go back in the house."

"You think the spirit didn't like the do over?" Dean suggested.

"Dumb as that sounds, it's not unknown for big changes to a place to kick-start a haunting, but we already know that's not the trigger here. C'mon. Let's go eat."

-o-

Inside the diner was quiet and it had a laid back, unhurried feel. The Hunters were shown to a booth and each given a menu by the thin and angular female hostess.

"When you're ready to order, just give Callie a wave she's your waitress today. Can I get you guys a drink while you're deciding?"

Dean watched the woman briefly as she wandered off to arrange their drinks.

"I'm seriously hopin' the only reason she's so thin is 'cos she don't eat here! The owner of this house, he knows we're goin' to be stopping there?"

"Yeah, Bobby said he would meet us and give us a key. I've got his number on one of the pages."

Sam produced the notes Bobby had made and began to scan through them again.

"Looking at the house's history, there's nothin' to show that there's ever been any problems any other time. It's always when the place is occupied by a family of three, parents and kid. But only when the kid has been a boy."

"Like the current owners."

"S'right. Problem is, I've not been able to ID our spirit beyond Bobby havin' pinned it down to the family where the guy murdered his partner and kid then later went on to hang himself. Here, take a look for yourself. See if you spot any clues to which one of them we're up against."

Their waitress put in an appearance as Sam handed the notes to his brother.

"Good afternoon, I'm Callie. Here's the drinks you ordered. You decided what you want to eat yet?"

Callie was gushing and blatantly giving the guys a once over, and liking what she saw.

"Who's is who's?"

Sam answered.

"Mine's the unsweetened tea."

Dean was about to bestow on Callie his best award-winning smile, when he remembered that it belonged to the face Sam was wearing. He didn't know if Sam_ had_ something that he considered his best award-winning smile. Dean made himself a mental note to check out his brother's different smile capabilities as soon as he had the time and a mirror.

"Making mine the sweet tea, gorgeous."

"One sweet and one un-sweet." she blushed slightly from Dean's attention. "There you go."

Sam kicked Dean under the table and mouthed _Jail bait!_

Dean arched his brows mischievously.

"But Sammy, I'm four years younger right now."

Sam rolled Dean's eyes shaking his head and glancing down at the menu.

"Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?"

"I'll have the cob salad, ranch dressing on the side."

Scribbling down Sam's order, she turned to Dean and cooed,

"And for you?"

Dean flirted back at her, earning him a scowl from his brother.

"Give me a double cheese burger, fries and a piece of your best pie."

"I'll get that order in and would you like some rolls while you wait?"

"Please."

Dean let his hand brush hers as he gave the menu back. She all but ignored Sam as he held out his menu for her to take.

"Coming right up, just got a batch hot out of the oven."

"Bet that's not all that's hot around here." he mumbled under his breath as she sashayed away.

As Dean turned around with a dopey smile on his face, Sam glowered.

"Don't even think about it."

"Spoil sport."

"We're here to do a job, not play footsie with the locals."

"Sammy, you're just jealous 'cos she likes me the best."

"Yeah? You're forgetting something, it's _my_ body you're in and _that's_ what she's lookin' at!"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

-o-

Sam sat back in the Impala before driving away from the diner, Dean handed Bobby's notes back to his brother with a sigh.

"Well, you're right. All three died violent deaths and there's nothin' in here that point's to which one has gone vengeful."

"What if it's two of them? Or even worse, all three?"

"Fun thought. Thanks for that Sam. Good havin' you along to brighten things up!"

"Sorry. But at least we know the kid and the mom are buried together in the local cemetery. Bobby ran out of time, so it's up to us to figure out what happened to the guy's body."

"Given that he died in prison and out of area, he might've just been planted or cremated at the prison's expense. Sounds like a job for Research Boy. By-the-way, that's you, not me. What say we get the key off the owner and split up? I'll drop you off at the local library and take a drive around the cemetery, see how secure it is, then head on up to the house, unpack and check it out. You can call me when you want picked up. Sound ok?"

"Do I get a choice?"

"Nope."

"Fine. I'll call the owner, let him know we're in town."


	10. Chapter 10

**C10**

Dean and Sam were leaning against the Impala in a convenience store parking lot waiting on the owner to arrive. Dean was trying to keep Sam's too long hair out of his face whilst Sam enjoying himself making notes on Bobby's notes. Dean had managed to find a small rubber band and was keen to make use of it. All he needed to do was get rid of his brother.

"Sammy, I'm thirsty, run inside and get us something to drink." Dean complained.

"Why me? Who said I was thirsty anyway?"

"Because I'm the oldest and what I say goes." He snarled back.

"Sorry, we already agreed _I'm_ the oldest whilst ever I'm riding your..."

".. **! **.."

"Um...I didn't mean...Ok...Look, tell you what, how about I go get us a drink?"

"Sounds great! Thanks!" Dean smiled devilishly.

Sam pushed himself off the car muttering under his breath and heading for the store.

Dean smirked, watching his body walk into the store in fascination. It was still freakin' creepy to see his body walking without him in it. It almost felt like he should be running to catch up with it, otherwise, it might get away from him and then he would've lost himself... Dean stopped his thought process right there, before his brain had to undertake some serious gymnastics to extract itself from a whole thread of complex notions. Instead, he produced his precious rubber band and got to work.

A few minutes later Sam strolled out carrying a drink in each hand. When he got close enough, he tossed him a bottle of water, watching as Dean caught it easily.

"Excuse me? What's this?" Dean fussed holding up the water.

"You know water, H2O, the wet stuff."

"Yeah I know water; it's what I shower in, the stuff that makes my coffee wet. Why'd you get me this? You know I usually take soda."

"Well, you get water today, my body doesn't need all the sugar and caffeine and besides you should drink more water, it's good for you." Sam noted as he took a good look at his body leaning against the Impala. "Dean, what the freakin' hell did you do to my hair!"

"And, like most of the stuff you say that about, tasteless. You sure can be a pain in my ass sometimes little brother." Dean continued ignoring his question.

"So I've been told numerous times, mostly by you." Sam remarked going back to his notes. "Take it down now, I look ridiculous."

Before Dean could think of a come-back, a silver Toyota Camry pulled into the lot and slowly eased their way. It stopped beside them and the man rolled the window down eyeing them carefully.

"Excuse me? Are you Bobby's friends?"

Sam straightened up and nodded with a smile.

"Yes, I'm Sam and that's my brother Dean."

The guy had never met them before, so he wasn't about to be confused by their names not matching their bodies.

"Hi. Name's David. Not that it matters, but I could've_ sworn_ Bobby said you were the taller one?" he said getting out of the car.

"Anyway, I want to thank both of you for lookin' into this for me. Bobby said you two do this kinda thing as a job? I gotta be straight with you; I don't believe in this kinky supernatural stuff, I still think it's something structural. Still, I'm willin' to try anythin'. Here's the key for the front door."

Dean intercepted the key as David moved to hand it over to Sam. He reached up and pulled the rubber band quickly from his hair grimacing as he pulled hair out with it.

"Thanks. Can you tell us what kinds of things have happened?"

David shrugged.

"Sure. At the start it was mostly noises, you know, bangs and thuds. My son though, he said he could hear voices, like a man and woman havin' an argument? I put everything down to the plumbing and my boy 'fantasising'. Then my wife started siding with him, agreeing that there were voices. We've had power surges that could have managed to blow every light in the place all at once. I refused to pay that jackass electrician till he got it fixed, for _free_. I remember an afternoon when every single screen in the whole place whitens out, an' I mean _every_ screen! TV, PC, Laptop, people's own cells, everythin'. It..erm..Got worse. Whenever I got in from work, something would be thrown at me. It started with eggs and got more dangerous, heavier. I accused my lad, but my wife swore he was with her in the lounge. That's when I decided to look for a, er, _specialist_. I needed somebody who could deal if it _is _creepy shit and, no offence, someone who would _pretend_ to have dealt with some kinda creepy shit if it was just down to more work bein' needed on the old place. That's when I remembered Bobby Singer. Ever since his wife died, he's acted like the creepy shit is real, so I figured he might know someone. I gotta say, you two look more, um, _normal_ than I expected!"

Dean shrugged.

"I guess we could always dress freaky if you really want us to? How about a black robe each?"

-o-

David looked at Dean uncertainly.

"I don't ... Unless? ... Is that? ..."

Sam shot Dean a stern glare.

"Ignore him. He's just kidding around. Ok, well. You can leave everything with us now. I'm sure we can sort your little problem out. We'll call you when it's safe to return to the house."

David nodded and thanked the two Hunters. Walking to his car, he stopped and glanced back.

"Be careful, I've had two workers that had to be taken to the hospital from injures they got while working in the house. Oh, by the way, I turned off most of the breakers, except for the fridge; you're welcome to turn on what you need. The box is in the laundry room."

Sam smiled reassuringly.

"We will, and thanks for the information."

With a final nod, David got in his car and drove away. Dean pushed himself off the Impala, tossing the water in the car.

"Ok. I'll drop you at the library and I'll go check out the cemetery, then I'll head out to the house. You can call me when you're done."

-o-

Dean slowly eased the Impala down a gravel road by the cemetery. He found a pull off and parked. As he got out, he checked the surrounding area for houses, security and people. It being a small town, there didn't seem to be anything to worry about. Pulling out a page of Bobby's notes, he looked at the names of the woman and boy, Tosha Beckman and Tyler Jessup. He began to slowly make his way down the rows of tombstones checking the names as he went. He finally found two small markers at the back of the cemetery with their names on them. At least they were back and away from the road, Dean thought looking around at the area. Satisfied he could find them again in the dark, he headed back to car.

-o-

The house itself was an older, wooden, two-story, Cap Cod. Dean pulled the Impala up the driveway and to the side of the house. He rolled out of the car and slowly walked around to the front door noticing paint had begun to peel in places and weeds were taking over the flower beds. The front door released a small squeak; as Dean let it swing all the way open. Standing in the doorway, Dean let his hunter instincts kick in. He stepped into the house and pulled him EMF scanner to check for any activity whilst he walked around the family room, avoiding the scaffolding, drop cloths and buckets of paint. His scanner remained silent as he continued to the kitchen and dining room. Nothing seemed out-of-place and his spidery senses were not tingling. The sudden ringing of his cell phone sounded way too loud in the quiet interior, causing him to jump.

"Hey."

"Come and get me."

"On my way." Dean said glad to get out of the house. It was giving off to many weird vibes.

* * *

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	11. Chapter 11

**C11**

Sam was waiting by the curb as Dean eased the Impala up beside him. Opening the door, Sam plopped his/Dean's body in the passenger seat.

"Find anything good?"

Sam's tone was tired and sarcastic.

"Well, if you consider the fact that, after the father hung himself in the state prison way over on the other side of the state, no one stepped up to claim the body meaning he got a fast state funded cremation, _good_, then yeah, I guess I did."

Dean ignored Sam's tone.

"You think some object could be drawing him back to the house? Or are we looking at the vics, either both or one of them?"

Sam rubbed his hand through Dean's hair, thinking how odd it felt to suddenly run out of length so quickly.

"Right now, I'm honestly not sure. I mean, this woman left, taking the boy with her 'cos she thought it was the only way to keep him safe. If she went through all that in the first place, why did she, six years later, move back to Lawrence? Even more amazing, she came back and hitched up with _him _again. Why the Hell would she even consider that?

"Got me there, Sammy. Maybe we need to do some digging into this Tosha Beckman person and see if anything seems off?"

"Sounds good to me. So, head back to the house and get to work? Did you find anything there?"

"Nope. But the place was just too damn quiet, sort of freaks you out."

Dean swung the car around and headed for the house.

"By-the-way, I _did_ find the graves, they're way in the back at the far corner of the cemetery."

"I guess that's one good thing." Sam commented. "Mean's we can do what we might have to do without any nosy neighbours staring and dialling 911!"

-o-

Turning the key easily in the lock, Dean pushed open the front door, listening to that annoying squeak again and led the way into an entrance hall. He pointed to the door on his right.

"Kitchen and utility's through there. We got running water, cold obviously. Down the hall's the dining room and the lounge."

He indicated another door this time on his left.

"Some kinda family room, watch out in there. It's a construction site, looks like there's a two-story extension happenin'. Upstai ... _Whoa_!"

Dean was suddenly lifted off his feet and thrown backwards, straight into Sam. Caught by surprise, the younger hunter wasn't at all ready for the solid impact that was his own body, still piloted by Dean. Both Hunter's crashed to the floor in a tangled pile of limbs and torsos. Dean stared at the heaped sprawl of his and Sam's legs, momentarily at a loss as to which ones would respond to his control.

Sam solved the puzzle by dragging his upper body from underneath Dean, taking two of the legs with him. Dean figured the two that remained must be the ones he was currently responsible for. Sam was already getting to his feet, when he found himself sliding over the wooden floor of the entrance hall at high-speed, heading face first on a collision course with the stair banister rail.

He flung both arms across his face; certain he was about to head butt the wooden banister. Instead there was a disembodied cry of _No_ and something soft seemed to come between Sam and the handrail, stopping him short of collecting some very nasty facial injuries. Just as suddenly as everything had kicked off, it ended, and Sam dropped down to his knees in relief.

-o-

Dean was at his brother's side in seconds, one long arm across Sam's shoulders.

"You ok Sammy?"

Despite Sam's nod, Dean could feel the slight tremor that ran through him. Sam gazed up at the hand rail he had so nearly become closely acquainted with.

"What the Hell was _that_ all about Dean?"

"That, little brother, was definitely _two_ spirits and, whoever it is we're dealin' with here, _one_ of them set out to protect you, and stopped you from getting' badly hurt. We need to find out _exactly_ who we're facing around here."

-o-

"I say let's get a room at that motel down the road, you can do your geek thing and I'll go to the police station and get the reports on the girlfriend and boy's murders." Dean decided not wanting to take any more chances in the house until they had more Intel.

"Sounds good to me. I don't particularly want to be face planted into any unmovable objects if I can help it." Sam agrees as he follows his brother back to the front door. He pauses at the door and looks around as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Sam had a funny feeling they were being watched.

"What's wrong?" Dean questions his brother, seeing a puzzled look on Sam's/his face.

Sam shrugged, stepping through the door and out on the porch.

"Nothin' I guess, it just felt like we're being watched."

Before they can pull the door too, a strong force slams it shut, making them both jump back. Dean looked at Sam and back at the door.

"Guess they didn't like our company?" Dean stated stepping back from the door.

"Let's go before it decides to throw us off the porch."

-o-

The motel wasn't as rundown as most they'd stayed in over the years. The room had seen better days, but it was clean and didn't have any lingering smells or unknown stains. Being a creature of habit, Dean threw his bag on the bed nearest the door. He always figured if anything came in after them, he could protect Sammy better being the first line of defence. Sam tossed his bag on the other bed and put his computer bag on the small table. He glanced back over his shoulder at Dean.

"Are you going to pick something up for dinner while you're out?"

"Thought I might as well, if that suits you?"

"Bring me a chef salad and tea."

"Ya know, that fine body you're wearing's gonna go into withdrawals eatin' that rabbit food. A man's body needs meat."

"Well, whilst _I'm _babysittin' it's going to enjoy nutritious meals for a while." Sam stated opening his computer and ignoring the look Dean was giving him. "How ya going to get the records since the case is closed?"

"Guess I'll have to sweet talk me a file clerk. Who's gonna resist your puppy dog eyes?"

Dean smiled smugly and at the same time, batted his eyes at Sam. Sam huffed at Dean and began his search of the internet on Tosha Beckman and Tyler Jessup. Dean laughed at his brother as he grabbed his jacket and keys before heading out the door.

* * *

**Thank you to all who are following, favoring and have reviewed the story. Hope you have enjoyed this chapter.**

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	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you to all who are following and have favored our story and a special thanks to all who left reviews. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

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* * *

**C12**

Dean pulled into the police parking lot and cut the engine. He rummaged through their fake ids looking for a report's badge, deciding his cover story would be that he was doing an article on strange or grisly murders in the area. Entering the building unchallenged, Dean gazed at the various signs on the wall. He chose the one pointing the way to the records room toward the back of the building. As he walked casually around a corner, Dean saw a glass partition and a sign labelled **Records Room** above it - _Yatzee! _Acting as if he had every right in the world to be wandering around there, Dean headed towards a service hatch covering the window, hoping he would find a female on duty.

"Hello there. May I help you?"

An older woman gazed at Dean expectantly as he stopped at the window. Dean rolled his eyes, Just his luck...Ma Kettle was on duty.

"Hi, I sure hope so."

Dean turned on Sam's best _you know you want to help me _expression.

"I'm a reporter with the Daily Courier News and I'm, um, doing an article on odd happenings in the area. You know the kinda thing, strange unexpected deaths, gory murders and such. I was hoping you could help me with getting hold of copies of old police reports from a murder that took place back in 1988? You might have come across the case at some point. A woman and boy, mother and son I believe, they were beheaded by the guy who was the woman's boyfriend and dad to the kid? The guy's name was Jessup."

The woman looked Sam's body up and down, causing Dean to wonder if this was how all women of her age reacted to Sam.

"An article huh?"

"Yeah. Look, I know this' a long shot 'cos you were probably still at school but, I don't suppose you happen to know of anyone who's worked here since then and who might be willing to talk to me, do you?"

The glow on the woman's face told Dean his instincts had been right.

"Actually, _I_ was here then. I've been doing this job for goin' on thirty years now."

Dean schooled his expression into one of disbelief, struggling to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Seriously? And do you remember the case at all?"

"Oh yes. I do. It was terrible what happened to them both." she said sadly shaking her head.

"She was a sweet girl really, and that little boy? Cute as a button he was. I used to see them around town once in a while. I always felt sorry for them, they never seemed to catch a break."

"Ah, Betty Jean." Dean started reading her name tag. "I would love to interview you, get your opinion on the case; it would really help my article to have a personal interview on what you remember."

"Well, I don't usually do things like that..."

"Oh, come on, I bet you're a natural at it. I could quote you as a source."

Betty Jean looked at the clock behind her and then back at Dean.

"I get off in twenty minutes, why don't I meet you at the coffee shop on the corner?"

"You're a doll! Would you be able to lay your hands on a copy of the reports?"

Dean smiled sweetly at the woman, watching her melt.

"Sure thing, I'll bring a copy with me."

"That's wonderful of you Betty Jean. Twenty minutes it is. I'll get us a table."

Dean replied patting her hand as he spoke and Betty Jean blushed slightly before turning away to get the phone. _Sammy's boyish charm sure does come in handy_, Dean thought to himself.

-o-

Sam looked at his watch again wondering what could be keeping Dean. It had been nearly three hours since he had left and he wasn't picking up his phone. He was just about ready to go look for him when he heard a key in the door. Dean strolled in carrying a bag, a folder and six-pack of beer.

"Where have you been?" Sam complained. "Why didn't you pick up your phone?"

"Easy there, little brother, I was getting Intel for us. I have to say, your body did come in handy today with Betty Jean, the sweetest thing."

Sam spoke slowly, not liking where this could be heading.

"Dean, what did you do with my body?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Chill out, dude. We only had coffee; she was a sweet grandmotherly type who enjoyed talking."

Dean set down the food bag and went to put the beer in the fridge.

"I got the scoop on the murders off B.J. though."

"Good. I found some old medical records for the boy. Reason I missed them before was Tosha used her last name when she took him to the emergency room, Tyler Beckman. Claimed to have fallen down a step and broke his arm and before that tripped over a toy and hit his head, had to have a few stitches. Doctor thought it might be abuse, but couldn't prove it."

"That goes along with what I found out from our Betty Jean. Seems the father had a mean temper, police were called out several times but no charges were ever filed. Betty Jean said she saw Tosha around town with the little boy and she was sporting some pretty bad bruises on her face and arms. It wasn't long after that she disappeared with the boy."

"And that's when they stopped off at Bobby's." Sam concluded.

Dean nodded.

"Betty Jean said Tosha came back six years later after she'd lost her job. She'd no income and they were about to be thrown out of their rental. Tosha arrived back in Lawrence and moved in with a cousin. Seems it was the only way she had of makin' sure her and her boy didn't end up living on the streets. Anyway, didn't take long for her to run into the ex. He pulls the usual stuff, persuades her he's changed, says he wants them back; uses the fact that she's still not found work, says he'll support them, wants them to be a family again."

Sam looked angry.

"It pisses me off that so many of these abusers, men _and_ women, spin the same crap time and time again, and time and time again the victims fall for it. Just like this woman, they get pulled back in by the lies. So, Tyler and his mum ended up right back where they started."

"Yeah. It's not clear how quickly it started again, or how things got as bad as they did so quickly. The report _does_ say the boy was killed first, and then his mum."

Sam grimaced.

"Meaning there's a good chance that Tosha saw her son die at his own father's hands. Talk about screwed up! ... So, now what we could have is the mother turned vengeful, and the son trapped here or maybe hangin' around by choice 'cos he's not wanting her to hurt anyone. What do you think?"

Dean considered Sam's hypothesis as he began pulling food from the bag and sitting beers on the table. He pushed a salad toward Sam and un-wrapped a cheeseburger for himself, glancing across and shaking his head at the sight of himself looking pleased about a salad.

"That's never gonna be right...Anyway, your idea? Now that I'm thinkin' 'bout it, the voice _did_ sound kinda young. It sure didn't sound like dad. Hey! Unless the dad was one of those watchyoumacallums... Ciabattas? Calamaris? Castanets?"

Sam couldn't help his laughter, just managing to splutter out "_Castrati_, moron!"

"_That's_ the bunny. Had to be _you_ who knew the word outta the two of us."

Dean gleefully attacked his burger. Watching, Sam frowned. First thing he was going to have to do once he got his proper body back was some_ serious_ detox. With a shake of his head, Sam returned to the topic of the case.

"So, we do a salt and burn tonight on both? Sound like a plan to you?"

"Well. We got two spirits an' two sets of remains. Logic says yeah, we burn the bones and hopefully put them both to rest. Job's done and then it's ready or not, Missouri, here we come."

Knowing just how much it irritated Sam, Dean hadn't bothered to swallow, answering with his mouth full. It somehow reassured him to know that, even in the wrong body, Sam was as reliable as ever on some things.

"Dude! Don't you have _any_ table manners?"

"Yeah. 'Course. You're lookin' at 'em."

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	13. Chapter 13

**C13**

Dean had no problem in finding the small grave markers that he'd previously identified as being the mother and son. In silence, the two brothers began to dig. Sam was surprised to discover how much difference having Dean's stamina made and he soon settled into a comfortable rhythm, matching his breathing to the methodical pace of his digging. The task of manually shifting the volume of packed earth was still a hard and demanding task, but Sam felt able to go far longer without the need for a short break.

Dean's experience in his brother's body wasn't going so well and he realised how much Sam willingly endured every time they unearthed a coffin. Sam's sheer strength was as equal to the task as Dean's. However, Dean had never given any thought to how much more strain the repetitive bending and straightening placed on Sam's lower back, simply as a result of him being so tall. Dean found himself having to take a short break sooner than he would normally allow himself to, just for the relief of stretching his back to combat the encroaching stiffness and pain. Sam glanced over at Dean as his brother, both hands pressed into his lower back, groaned as he stretched and flexed to minimise his aches.

"You ok?"

Dean looked back at Sam, admiration clear in his eyes.

"You've never mentioned how hard this is on your back when you're as tall as a Redwood."

Sam shrugged, in part not sure how to respond to the look in his brother's eyes, and returned to his task whilst he spoke.

"If I'd ever said anything about my back aching, do you think dad, or _you_ come to think of it, would've understood? They just don't make shovels with handles long enough for us full-sized people. So yeah, it's uncomfortable, so what?"

Dean considered Sam's words; he hated the fact that Sam was right. If Sam had mentioned anything about his back, he would most likely have been accused of trying to shirk the job, or told simply to _suck it up_.

"I'm sorry."

Sam paused again.

"For what? The fact that all shovels are designed for short little guys like you?"

"For being the kinda jerk you couldn't tell things like that. I'm really sorry."

Sam frowned, it felt like things could get heavy and, whilst that would be fine by him most times, in the middle of exhuming two sets of remains wasn't helpful.

"Forget it. C'mon, let's finish the job."

-o-

Sam was the first to hit something solid. Bending down he scraped the remaining thin layer of soil off the lid of the boy's coffin by hand. Most of the time the Hunter's gave little thought to the remains, getting on with the job in hand. But it was always different when they were opening the coffin of a child.

"How do you want to play this Dean? You want me to wait so we do them both together? Or..."

Dean shook his head.

"Hold off till mommy's uncovered. If she gives us any trouble, it might be handy to have the kid still around."

Sam stared down at the coffin lid.

"Ok. You need a hand over there?"

"Nah. I'm good. You get ready with the salt and oil."

-o-

Ten minutes later, Dean raised his shovel and smashed it through the lid of the mother's coffin. Hauling himself out of the burial hole he went to the boy's coffin, ready to do the same.

"Um...Dean?"

Sam's tone said it all and, sure enough, when Dean looked across at Sam, he saw his brother being held with both feet off the ground, the furious looking spirit of a woman standing in front of Sam with one arm held out towards his younger brother, keeping him hanging in mid-air. Her head turned 180 on her neck to glare at Dean.

"_Get away from my boy_...You ain't gonna hurt him anymore. _Get away_!"

Sam tried talking to the crazed looking spirit.

"Tosha, we're not here to hurt you; either of you. We're here to help you rest. Your boyfriend's dead, killed himself in prison back in '89. He can't hurt you now. Please, let us help you both."

The spirit spun her head around to Sam.

"Liar. He wants to hurt my baby. You _all_ do. Well, I ain't gonna let you this time."

As she spoke, Tosha's hand formed a fist and, at the same time, Sam felt an increasing pressure squeezing around his neck, rapidly cutting off his air supply. Dean reacted, driving his shovel through the wood of the boy's coffin and dragging himself out of the grave and away from the instant blast of cold air. The mother's spirit screamed. Throwing Sam away from her, she flew towards Dean, both hands clawing to reach his throat.

"_Mom_! Stop!"

-o-

The effect of the new voice was instant. Dean forgotten, Tosha's spirit stared at the wavering spirit of Tyler, her eyes wide.

"My baby!"

Dean didn't bother to watch the reunion, instead racing across to where Sam lay, choking and coughing as he rubbed at his throat.

"I'm ok, I'm fine Dean. Go. Finish the job."

Dean nodded once. Scanning around he spotted where Sam had dropped the sack of salt and the canister of oil. Moving swiftly, he grabbed them both and fished in the pocket of his jeans for his Zippo as he headed back to the open graves. Standing between them, he poured salt over each of the bodies. Tossing the sack away, he had begun to unscrew the top off the oil canister, when an invisible force knocked him into the woman's grave, sending him crash landing on top of her remains with a grunt. Looking up he saw Tosha's spirit glaring in wild-eyed vengeance down at him.

"I'm not done with you. What you did to us? I _owe_ you, _you bastard_."

"Oh shit!"

Dean watched the oil canister fly back out of the grave. Hanging in the air above him its lid turned, falling off, and the canister began to tilt.

-o-

"_Please_ Mom. _Enough_. It's not him. It's not him. _Please_, listen to me!"

Dean saw the boy's spirit grab hold of his mother's arm, dragging at her, trying to pull her away.

"_Get off me_! I'm doing this for us, for _you_!"

Tyler shook his head.

"If you kill them, we can't be together mom. You'll be as bad as my dad. They can help us. They can make things right. You and me mom, we'll be together. Please let them help, if you love me, let them help."

Dean held his breath, seeing his brother's head appear behind the two spirits.

"Your son's telling you the truth. We're here to help, that's all."

Tosha looked between Sam and her son. Dean exhaled in relief when he saw the oil canister straighten and settled carefully back on the ground.

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	14. Chapter 14

**C14**

Dean took it steady driving on from Highmore, aware that neither he nor Sam had rested after sending Tyler and Tosha on their way. Now, every road sign the Impala passed announced how much closer Sam and Dean were getting to Lawrence, their home town. And the closer they got, the quieter Dean became. Lawrence didn't hold the same memories for Sam, but for Dean, the memories of the last night that his four-year old self spent in Lawrence still haunted his nightmares all too frequently. Sam started to clear his throat, but changed his mind. Dean glanced at his brother, before looking back at the road ahead.

"Got something you wanna say to me Sammy?"

"No...Yes. I mean..."

"No, yes? Which is it?"

Sam glared at his brother's profile, realized he'd never really inspected that feature of himself before, and then forced the thought away, returning his full focus on to Dean.

"I was just checking that you're ok, that's all."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm going to assume you're not really needing me to answer that? I'm curious though, which's the bigger problem here? The fact that we're heading into Lawrence? Or that Missouri seems to make you nervous?"

"Neither, genius. Seeing as how you're asking, I've actually been thinking what if Missouri can't help us? What do we try then? And, how would either of us deal, if there's nothing anyone can do to change us back? Satisfied?"

-o-

Sam glanced out the window before responding to his brother's questions.

"Actually, I've thought the same thing; I just didn't know how to bring the subject up."

"So, how do you feel about it, you know, if we _are_ stuck?"

"It wouldn't be the end of the world, I guess. Not like we wouldn't still be brothers and all. It wouldn't stop us from hunting; we'd just have to make some minor adjustments."

Dean frowned, thinking over how he treated his own body at times, and if he could let himself do the same to Sam's body if he _did_ have to stay in it. Looking out for his little brother had always meant looking out for the whole package. He had no idea how he'd deal in the long-term with half that package being himself. He tried pushing Sam a little further, concerned about how chilled Sam seemed to be with the whole deal.

"But still Sammy, you know, it would still be a little uncomfortable doing some things. Don't you think?"

Sam could hear the anxiety underlying Dean's tone. He kept his reply fixed on a positive outcome scenario, trying to change the mood and to encourage his brother.

"Well, like I said, there _would _be a few adjustments to make sure, but you know? We shouldn't dwell on _what if_s. We'll figure this out. There's always a way to break a curse. It just might take us longer than we'd want to figure out how to get rid of this one."

Dean decided to play along, for Sam's sake.

"You know little brother, you're right. We've solved harder problems than this before now!"

Despite Dean's outward agreement, in the back of his mind there was a little seed of doubt sprouting and beginning to grow; what if they _were_ wrong?

Sam smiled. Then made sure Dean didn't see his face by looking out of the side window, seeking to hide how worried he _really_ was, aware that he still hadn't quite mastered controlling his brother's facial features when it came to covering things up. Could they _really_ adapt to this crazy body swap if it was permanent? Would they ever _really_ be able to feel comfortable in the other's body? Sam desperately hoped what he had said to his brother was true, and that they were able to find a way to break this curse.

-o-

Dean gazed around as they drove into the town of Lawrence. Not much had changed in the small town since the last time they had come back, driven by a vision that Sam had. A woman and her two kids had moved into their old house and had been threatened by an evil spirit. The Hunters saw their own Mom's spirit too; she had protected them by destroying the other spirit and in doing that destroyed her own spirit. The hurt was still there for Dean, it was like seeing his mother die _twice_ and not being able to do anything about it. He really missed her.

"Want to grab a motel room for the night; give ourselves a chance to unwind and relax?" Sam questioned looking at his watch. They could go see her now, but he felt Dean needed the time to prepare himself for the meeting.

"Yeah, you're probably right, hate to get on her bad side before we see if she can help us." Dean agreed, glad for the small reprieve.

Dean headed to a motel he recalled being a few miles away from where they were.

"I think there's a diner within walkin' distance of the motel, we can grab some food."

-o-

The motel still looked pretty much as Dean remembered it, if a little more leaning towards the shabby and losing its grip on clique. Dean stopped the Impala outside the motel's office come reception.

"Want me to go get us a room?" Sam asked.

Dean replied whilst trying to keep the tension out of her voice. He was already getting bad vibes being here.

"Yeah, go ahead."

Fifteen minutes later Sam walked out of the office and nodded to the left as he began to walk toward the end of one of the L shaped buildings. Dean followed and pulled into a space in front of the room Sam was opening. He got out of the car and popped the trunk so they could get their bags.

"So, I asked the front desk clerk, we have a choice of a Mexican, steak house, or fast food that is within walking distance." Sam explained as he tossed his bag of the far bed.

"You know my vote, steak house."

"It's two blocks south of here; guy said they have a great salad bar."

"What 'bout their steaks?"

"Didn't think to ask, can't be too bad, he said it stays pretty busy."

Dean gave his brother a deep frown, rolled his eyes and stomped out the door and in the direction of the steak house. Sam didn't see what the big deal was as he hurried to keep up with his brother's long strides. He'd never realized how fast he walked with his long legs, until now. No wonder Dean fussed at him to slow down all the time. Sam made himself a mental note to remember to try to match Dean's pace once he was back in his own body.

-o-

The lunch rush at the steak house had cleared out since it was after three pm. The guy was right, even thought the lunch crowd was gone; there were still a few customers. Sam ordered the buffet and Dean decided on a steak, fries, sautéed mushrooms and for dessert, pie.

They ate their food in silence, both wondering what tomorrow would bring. Would they get good news or the news no one wanted to hear, the curse can't be broken. Much to Dean's delight, Sam got ice cream off the buffet for Dean's apple pie. Sam was happy to see this small gesture made Dean smile.

-o-

By the time they returned to the motel, they were tired, weary but not ready for bed. Dean stretched out on top of his bed inspecting the TV remote, figuring how it worked; he looked up at Sam as he came out of the bathroom.

"Want to watch the tube?"

Sam shook his head as he sat at the small table in the room and opened his laptop. He wanted to see if anything else was happening around the area before they saw Missouri.

"No, but it won't bother me if you do."

"Ok. I'll keep the sound low."

"Mm-m."

Sam's answer was little more than a mummer as he began pulling up search engines that he used to check on any strange or unusual articles.

Dean adjusted his pillows and started channel surfacing looking for anything interesting to watch. He was tired and a little sleepy, but his mind didn't want to shut off. He finally settled on an old movie he'd seen before but that was fine, he wasn't watching it anyway, he had it on mainly for the noise.

Sam glanced over at his brother since he realized he had not heard any comments in the past hour from him regarding whatever he was watching on the television. He saw Dean had gone to sleep and was snoring softly. Sam gently removed the remote from his limp hand and turned off the bedside light.

He pulled the blanket up over his body and smiled down at his sleeping brother. Yes, he had to be positive, if not for himself, at least for Dean. With that thought, he climbed into his own bed and settled down hoping sleep would come quickly.

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	15. Chapter 15

**C15**

Muffled cries filtered into Sam's unconscious as he tried to wake his mind up. He could hear jumbled words, but couldn't make them out. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he propped himself up on an elbow, looking toward the noise. It was coming from the direction of the other bed. Sam saw the television was still on and the volume was low. Pushing himself up more, he could just make out Dean fighting his covers. Sam called to his brother.

"Dean...Hey, wake up. You're dreaming."

When he didn't get a response, Sam slid out of bed.

"No, no." Dean mumbled softly, but sadly.

Sam tried again, shaking Dean by the shoulder.

"Wake up Dean, c'mon."

Dean got out four clear words before Sam's shaking finally woke him up.

"I got you 'ammy."

"You ok there Dean? You were talking in your sleep."

"Yeah, I'm ok." Dean grumbled rubbing at his face as he realized where he was.

"Um, I heard you say, '_I got you Sammy'_, what did you mean by it?"

"Nothin', dreaming is all. Same old dream I used to get, the one where I'm back carryin' you out of our house again, ya know. Being back here, it's obviously triggered it again. Sorry I woke you."

-o-

Sam had long since recognised that the night their mother died was always there for Dean. He might have buried whatever memories he carried, but they were never buried so deep that those memories, and along with them Dean's nightmares, couldn't be triggered again. Sam felt annoyed with himself for not recognising that coming back to Lawrence would guarantee their return. He told himself he should have been ready for this, took the time to make sure Dean was ok instead of just going to sleep, leaving Dean watching TV. Sam padded across to the tiny kitchen area and filled a glass with water. Returning to Dean, he sat himself down on the edge of Dean's bed and passed his brother the glass.

"Here."

Dean accepted the water, making no comment about Sam being on his bed, a clear sign that Dean wanted the company, for a short time at least.

"Thanks."

"You want me to sit for a while, wait till you settle again?"

Dean tried for his _Don't be such a girl_ face, not quite pulling it off whilst still wearing Sam. Sam, however, got the message,;he simply chose to pretend he hadn't. He looked at Dean with genuine concern.

"You know, no matter how many times I see you having to suffer those nightmares, and no matter how many times I remind myself of what you did that night, I just can't get my head around what it must have been like for you. To have lived through it, and remember it...It must be so difficult for you. I mean, you were four, just a toddler for goodness sake, probably not much higher than dad's knees!"

Dean studiously avoided Sam's gaze, staring down into his glass of water instead and saying nothing. Although it didn't always stop him, Sam knew better than to push Dean too hard. He decided he would make one more attempt to give Dean an opening to make use of if he wanted to talk, simply because his brother hadn't immediately made him back off. Sam turned away from Dean and stilled, like someone attempting not to frighten away an animal in the wild. Sam bowed his head, keeping his gaze on the floor, his speech measured, low.

"I know that I'm sitting here 'cos of the number of times you've saved me Dean. But I've never thought how it's been like a never-ending commitment for you that started back then, when you were four. I could live forever Dean, but I'd never be able to pay you back for that first time."

Sam began to stand, and was guided to sit down again by Dean's hand on his arm.

-o-

For a moment there was silence, then..

"I was four years old. I'd never carried you before, not properly, mom wouldn't allow it, she always said I needed to be a bit bigger...I ever tell you she used_ you_ to make me eat my greens?"

Sam finally looked sideways at his brother, Dean gave a small smile at the surprise on Sam's face.

"What? No! You're kidding. She didn't! Did she?"

"Oh yeah. She'd say stuff like _How're you going to get big and strong enough to pick Sammy up_ _every time he falls over while he's learning to walk if you don't eat your greens?_ I remember once she said _You have to eat your greens to make sure you stay bigger than Sammy, because_ _you're his big brother_...I guess you must've eaten more greens than me in the end ... So anyway, in the middle of the fear and chaos, Dad just shoved you, all wrigglin' an' crying, in my arms and told me to get you outside. I figured it must be important, knew somehow that this was something I had to do a good job with, I had to do my very best for mom and dad.

You weren't too heavy at first. But, carryin' you down those stairs? With screaming an' the thick smoke, the heat, an'... The smell ... I absolutely knew I couldn't drop you, even though carrying you meant I couldn't hold on to the handrail goin' downstairs. Even a baby six months old is a big thing to carry when you're four. With you in my arms I couldn't see where each step ended or whereabouts I should put my feet so's not to fall. I remember having to forget walking down like a grown up did. I had to take it one step at a time, making sure I had both my feet planted on each step before I could climb down the next one.

At four, you haven't got all the words or the experience to properly either understand or explain all the feelings you have about the things that happen to you or around you; some things are just instinctive, or reactions to the emotions that the grown-ups are projecting. Now, when I look back on that crazy assed night? I know I'd decided that mom must've told dad she thought I'd grown big enough and strong enough at last to be allowed to carry you. And I think I remember being scared that maybe mom had got it wrong. Dad's always said that, even as a little kid,I was stupidly stubborn. Seems he must've been right 'cos, even back then, I was _determined_ that I wasn't goin' to let mom down.

Dad needed me to get you outside, away from all the fire, on my own...I didn't want to be told off, I was _already_ feelin' terrified enough. So, I tried really hard not to forget what I'd been told to do. Despite how heavy you started to feel, in spite of how much carryin' you made my arms and back hurt, and by pretending to be a big boy so's I didn't cry for my mom, I managed to do exactly what I'd been told. I think I got us through it because, more than anythin' else in the whole world, I wanted to please my mom...I honestly thought that if I managed this, if I was a good boy, that would make her happy and then ... And then she wouldn't hurt anymore..."

Dean abruptly stopped speaking and turned his head away from Sam.

"Dean, I don't ... _Jeeze_ Dean. What you did? She would've been _so_ proud. You were incredible."

Still refusing to look at Sam, Dean shrugged.

"It's no big deal. What are big brothers for; 'cept to watch out for their snotty nose _little_ brothers."

And, as suddenly as that, Dean was finished.

"Enough chick flicking, scoot back to your own bed, Samantha."

Sam obediently did as Dean had instructed. Lying on his back, he glanced across at his brother.

"Dean? I just want you to know, I'm glad you're my big brother and that you still watch out for me."

Sam didn't wait for an answer, turning his side, his back towards Dean. It was a while before Sam finally fell asleep, his thoughts concentrated on the memories that Dean had shared with him. He was pleased to hear the sound of his brother's breathing change as Dean managed to drift off to sleep quite quickly. There were no further disturbances for either brother for the rest of that night.

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	16. Chapter 16

**C16**

-oOo-

The next morning was overcast with dampness in the air and a scent that foretold of rain. The brothers checked out of the motel early, and drove to the other side of town, heading for the home of Missouri. Dean parked on the road outside the house. One hand resting on the steering wheel, as though ready to drive away again, Dean remained seated in the Impala, staring at Missouri's front door, trying to gathering his courage and calm his nerves. There was no reason for Dean to feel anxious, the woman they were both counting on had known them almost all their lives, but for some reason that Dean himself couldn't properly explain, Dean always felt on edge around the woman for a couple of days. Sam looked over at his brother, feeling a little worried about him. He knew this was hard on Dean, but they had to do it. Sam could only hope that luck was on their side for once, and that Missouri would be able to help them. Dean finally squared his shoulders and began getting out of the car. Sam nodded and began to follow suit.

"Alright. Time to get our own body's back."

-o-

As they began heading up the walkway, a soft drizzle began. The front door opened and Missouri beckoned to the brothers. Dean immediately turned to Sam. Before his brother could say anything, Sam grinned.

"She heard the Impala pull up dude, that's all."

Missouri rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Hurry up will you? It's going to come down good n' hard any second. _Move_ your scrawny behinds!"

Dean muttered to himself "Hello, how are you, lovely to see you both."

Missouri's eyes instantly narrowed and fixed themselves on Sam's physical body.

"Dean Winchester. If you've got somethin' to say, child, you do me the courtesy of sayin' it to my face. Do I make myself clear?"

Arriving at the door, Dean stared down at the suddenly interesting welcome mat.

"Yes ma'am."

Missouri nodded, apparently satisfied by Dean's apologetic response.

"C'mon then. Inside both of you. Quickly now, here it comes."

On cue, the heaven's opened, and the previously soft drizzle became a torrent.

-o-

Hustling the hunters inside and closing the door, Missouri turned and looked both brothers up and down.

"My, my, boys you sure stepped into it this time. Bobby was right; we've got a lot of work to do. Now, I assume one of you remembered to pack our little friend, didn't you?"

Dean nodded.

"I did. He's safely tucked up in the back of the car and Sam's not been allowed anywhere near him."

Missouri immediately _tsk tsk_'d at Dean whilst patting Sam's arm.

"Now Dean. Don't you go blaming young Sammy here. Accidents _will_ happen."

Sam was about to correct Missouri on his name, when she glanced at him almost challengingly, and he decided to leave well alone. Instead he defended his brother, having seen the expression from Dean that said _I've just got here and already I'm in trouble._

"Dean's right though Missouri, this' on me. It was _my_ dumb mistake."

Missouri smiled almost sadly. Just seconds after walking through her front door, there it was, the first sign of that embedded need to protect each other that their crazy lives that John Winchester had nurtured. As she so often had whilst her friend was alive, Missouri again felt the ambiguity in her feelings towards John. Whilst she had both liked and respected the man, being one of the few people who had understood who he was and why, she never could find it in herself to condone the way he raised these dear "boys" and, in particular, the way he had moulded and what he had made of his eldest son. What these two young men would do to keep one another from harm, Missouri believed was both the best, and the worst of them. As ever, her heart went out to them both and she hugged each of them in turn.

"I'm so glad both of you have come here to me. I've missed seeing you two boys."

-o-

They sat at the table in Missouri's bright and cheerful kitchen, she plied the brothers with coffee and home-made cake, encouraging them to share with her some of the experiences that they had endured through being in each other's body. Missouri laughed heartily at some of the scenes described to her, and listened seriously to others. Sam and Dean laughed with her as they looked back, and each watched the other carefully when that one was speaking of things they had found anxiety provoking or hard.

-o-

Eventually Missouri glanced at her watch before looking out of the kitchen window.

"Rain's stopped. Dean honey, run out to that huge car of yours and bring our little friend indoors would you? Sam, you can come with me and I'll show you your room. I assume sharing still won't cause any problems?"

Sam grinned.

"No. That's fine, provided Dean doesn't decide to snore."

Dean smiled back at Sam, and winked.

"_I_ don't snore. But sadly, some nights_ you_ do, and, seeing as how I'm you right now..?"

Missouri shook her head.

"Well, I can see how complicated all this must get sometimes! Now don't you worry Sammy? If you need them, I can loan you my earmuffs...You can put up with pink for the sake of some sleep, can't you?"

Dean immediately pleaded with Sam.

"_Please_ bro'... Borrow the earmuffs, just for me? You _know_ you want to."

Sam's voice was almost a growl.

"Dean? Car. Fetch dead head. _Now_! ... Thanks for the offer Missouri, really. But I think I'll give the earmuffs a miss if I may? I'd rather just throw things at him until he shuts up."

Missouri shrugged her shoulders.

"That's fine sweetie. Just so long as it not _my_ thing's you're planning on throwing?"

-o-

The rain had begun to come down heavier again, flattening some of the more delicate flowers in Missouri's garden. Missouri stared at them through the window.

"Now look there! See those poor bedraggled poppies? Every year it happens, exactly the same. What was nature thinkin' when she made poppies open up this time of year? It breaks my heart to see them beaten down like that."

Missouri turned her back to the window and looked at Sam and Dean, her forehead creased into a frown.

"It's shameful so it is. You think she'd know better, wouldn't you?"

Dean looked back at Missouri, confused suddenly.

"_She_ who?"

"Why, _Nature_ of course. Didn't you listen to _anything_ I just said Dean Winchester?"

"Um?"

"Oh, never you mind. I don't suppose flowers play such a big part in the life you boys lead. Come on then, down to business. Let's greet your friend. Pass me the key please?"

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**NC**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thank you to all who have favored and those who are following and a special thanks to EAGM, Trucklady53, mb64, and klu for your reviews on the last chapter, they were greatly appreciated. As always please leave a review.**

**NC**

* * *

**C17**

Dean held the key to the box in his hand looking at it and then at Missouri. He was almost afraid to give it to her for fear of what she would find or not find.

"Dean, honey; it's ok, give me the key and we'll get this mess straightened out." she said softly holding out her hand.

"I know, but..." he started and swallowed hard knowing he couldn't say what he was thinking. "Sammy, you take my body over to the other side of the table and keep it there. Don't want another accident screwing this up worse than it is."

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, but he walked around to the other side of the table and sat down well away from the box containing the head. Satisfied that Sam was not within reach of the box, Dean laid the key carefully in Missouri's open hand. She took the key and inserted it in the lock and turned it causing the lid to pop up slightly. Dean held his breath and tensed as she opened the lid, like he was expecting the head to jump out and attack them. Missouri delicately pulled back the silk cloth the head was wrapped in and looked at it for the first time. She tilted her head to the side and studied it in a studious and serious manner.

-o-

Looking from the head to Missouri and back, Dean decided to himself that if they both glared at him suddenly, he'd be more nervous of Missouri than the head.

"Well?"

"My boy, I can't just instantly solve your problems, why don't you take your brother and go fetch us some lunch. It'll be easier to deal with this without someone watching over my shoulder."

She waved her hands at them insistently.

"_Scoot_, both of you! And boys, you take your time now, hear me? No need for any hurrying to get back here to carry on disturbing me. Me and our friend here need the chance to get to know one another."

-o-

Dean glanced back over his shoulder once he and Sam were out of the door and out of ear shot.

"Did she just throw us out?"

Sam shrugged innocently, increasing his pace to keep up with his longer legs on Dean.

"Well, you were sort of invading her private space...Like she said; I guess you..._we_, can be a distraction."

"So what are _we_ suppose to do for a couple of hours? Not like there's much around here." Dean grumbled getting in the car and cranking her up.

"Well, you're not going to like it, but we may be here a few days, so why don't we go get some food for Missouri. We shouldn't expect her to put a roof over our heads and feed us without some compensation."

Dean rolled his eyes, he'd quickly discovered that Sam's eyes were way better than his own at doing the rolling thing; it seemed to come much more naturally to them somehow.

"But, I _hate_ shopping."

He continued to grumble, but headed for a discount store they had passed earlier.

-o-

Dean had discovered the infamous Sam Slouch, and was currently using it to good effect.

"Are we done yet?"

Pushing the cart through the vegetable and fruit department, Sam gritted his teeth as Dean's (his) voice boarded on whining. He recognised the tone, but hadn't heard it from the perspective of someone else before, he'd had no real idea of just how teenage sulky it sounded.

"Dean, that's the _fourth_ time you've asked me that in the last twenty minutes." Sam sighed, growing annoyed. "Why don't you go grab something to drink and go wait in the car?"

"Fine! I will. Don't know why it should take so long just to pick out some stupid _fruit _anyway."

-o-

Sam watched as Dean stomped off, muttering to himself and making his way toward the check-out to snag a soda and go back to the car. Sam shook his head. Sometimes it was like being stuck having to entertain a hyperactive five-year old. At least with his brother out of his hair, Sam could finish shopping in peace. Dean was never one to look over what there was to buy and decide what was the freshest or ripest. He would go in, grab the first thing he saw, and check out. That was why, when growing up, some of the produce he would bring home wasn't anywhere near ripe, or was way too ripe. On one occasion, Dean was supposed to be picking up something for dessert. But, for some _still_ unknown reason, came home instead the proud owner of a tin of Irish Stew. His big brother had then tried convincing Sam that it was St Patrick's Day and it was traditional to celebrate with Irish stew for pudding. Sam had taken it all in stride; he always knew Dean was doing the best he could.

-o-

Sam strolled by the socks and underwear section and decided to grab some socks for them. He remembered the last time they did laundry; most of their socks had holes or were wearing out and threadbare. He pushed the cart to the checkout line and glanced at the magazines on the rack beside him. A car magazine caught his eye and he threw it in the buggy to surprise his big brother. Dean may not enjoy reading, but he _did_ love car magazines.

-o-

"'Bout time." Dean moaned, getting out of the car and opening the trunk for his brother. "Have we been gone long enough yet? Or do we have to do more shoppin'?"

"Yeah, we're probably ok to go back. But Dean, you need to calm down about this, show some patience. You know if Missouri can help us in any way, she will."

"I know; you're right. It's just, I don't like waiting around, and it makes me feel edgy."

"I know, but you being edgy ain't gonna move things along any quicker. Is it?"

"Fine, ok. I'll be a patient puppy, honest! C'mon, let's go see if she has anythin'."

-o-

Sam made Dean carry some of the bags into the house, just to give him something to do. They found Missouri still sitting at the table, staring at the head, looking almost as though she was in some sort of trance. Certainly, she gave no indication of being aware that the brothers were back. Sam quickly pushed Dean into the kitchen before he could interrupt Missouri by asking her anything and kept him busy, putting away the food.

"Oh, my goodness, you boys didn't need to buy all this food." Missouri exclaimed as she walked into the kitchen.

Sam answered her as he was sitting a six-pack of beer in the fridge.

"Yes we did. It's the least we can do."

-o-

Dean wasn't able to wait any longer.

"Did you find anything out?"

Missouri looked from Sam to Dean.

"Yes. And, as they say, I have some good news, and some bad news. The good news is the curse_ can_ be broken."

Dean frowned.

"And the bad news?"

"You will have to summon the spirit of the one who cursed the head. From what I gathered from our friend, it seems that it was some hoodoo princess. I don't expect either of you to have heard the name, but she was called Princess Usagi. I still don't know why she laid the curse, that's something we'll have to find out if we need to. Then, of course, you two boys might have to give some thought to how you're going to convince her to lift the curse."

"How in the Hell do you expect us to do that?"

"You just mind your manners with me." Missouri chided. Dean looked suitably contrite.

"Far as I can tell, there has to be a sacrifice. If she likes it, you get the chance to ask her something."

-o-

Sam wasn't at all sure he liked where this was going and he gazed questioningly at Missouri.

"Any idea what kind of sacrifice we're talking about?"

"I'm sorry Honey, I don't know. That will take more research; it may be as simple as burning incense, or as complicated as getting our hands on genuine dragon tears. Let's all hope it's more like the incense. What I _can_ tell you is that to get her here, the summoning must be carried out; now let me get this straight, _Where the sleeper suffers not to dream_."

Dean grinned.

"That's too easy! It has to be done in a cemetery."

Missouri nodded.

"That's exactly how I read it Sugar...Do you know who the owner of the head was by any chance, and how they came into possession of it?"

Sam nodded.

"It was in an estate sale. A hunter friend happened to see it and bid on it. Had to pay quite a price to make certain no-one else bought it. He passed it to us to dispose of; or at least put it somewhere safe where it wouldn't harm anyone."

"So then, I suggest you backtrack as far as you can, see where it leads you."

"Thanks, Missouri. So, how 'bout some lunch and then we get down to more research?"

Sam glanced over at Dean as he spoke. His brother looked to be deep in thought. Taking her cue from Sam's frown, Missouri also turned to gaze at the older hunter. Her voice was soft, concerned, when she spoke.

"Dean child? Are you alright?"

Raising his head, Dean was surprised to find both Missouri and Sam watching him. He flashed a momentary smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking; this might take longer than we thought. I'm gonna call Bobby after we eat, check up on him, see if he's found out anythin' useful. I'll fill him in on what we've got; see what he wants to do."

-o-

Dean pushed himself off the counter and headed out of the kitchen. Missouri's eyes tracked the physical form of Sam walking out, whilst Sam's mind remained by her side, clothed in Dean's body. She always thought it was something of a miracle that the pair functioned in the world as well as they did, that they could converse with "normal" people, that they could be polite and well-mannered, that they could care so much about others, that they could be so thoughtful as to wander around a store, choosing fruit, veg, and a whole range of other food goods so that she didn't have to stand to the cost of having them stay. They managed to do and to be all these things and more, despite the life they had led, the life they now led, and the experiences and traumas they'd both had a lifetime of.

"That brother of yours, so serious sometimes, I wish I could have done more by now to help the both of you Sam."

"Hey! At least we know now that this curse _can_ be broken, that's a good thing. The rest we'll figure out, pretty much like we always do."

"Well, I suggest you boys stay here with me until this little mishap is sorted. Who knows? I may even have some sway with her High and Mighty? I'm also curious to see this through. I think I might be of some help."

Sam put an arm around Missouri's shoulders and gave her a one-armed hug.

"I appreciate that, I know that Dean does too."

Missouri beamed as she playfully slapped him in the middle of his chest.

"Let go of me you daft thing. You make sure and tell that old grouch Bobby Singer, I've got another spare room if he'd like to join us. He can help me keep an eye on you two."

-o-

Missouri glanced again in the direction Dean had gone.

"That poor child, so much rolling around in that head of his, he's got to stop blaming himself for everything Sam."

"I know, I try to talk to him, but he shuts me out and pushes it down, won't let me help. I'm afraid one day, I don't know, he might lose it."

"You just be there for your brother, I've got a feeling you two are as likely as not going to be relying on each other heavily before this job gets done. Hoodoo Princesses aren't someone you mess with."

"I will. I'll stick with him."

Sam's tone was sincere as a sense of unease began to stealthily stalk up his spine. He wasn't sure what Missouri's warning meant, but he was determined to be there for his brother, just as he knew Dean would be there for him. Together, they could and would, get through this.

"I'm gonna see where he's got to, pass on your message to Bobby."

"Ok Honey, I'm relyin' on you to do that."


	18. Chapter 18

**C18**

-oOo-

"Hey kid. How you 'n that brother of yours doin'? Lady Missouri manage to put the fear of God in you yet son?"

Dean grimaced at the phone.

"What is it with you and Sammy? Where do you both get off on this idea that I'm afraid of her? I don't fear her Bobby, I just..._Respect_ her."

The amusement in Bobby's voice came over clearly.

"Really? That what they callin' it these days?"

"You're crackin' me up old man. How you doin' over there?"

"Not bad. We think we might know who the head is."

"No kiddin'? That's great. So, c'mon, spill."

"Well, for one thing, turns out its female."

-o-

Dean arched his eyebrows.

"You sure about that?"

"Sure as we can be. She was some kinda wet-nurse. Took care of the daughter of some high falutin' Hoodoo royal. Best we can tell the wet-nurse and the kid's dad were caught in _flagrante delicto_ by Her Royal Highness, the kid's mom."

"Sorry, did you just say she caught them in a fragrant delicatessen? How dare they?"

"Oh,ha de ha ha! _Idjit_. Apparently, our precious Princess weren't too thrilled about it. Punished them by swapping' the pair's body's around, then had the supposed wet-nurse, who was really her husband, put to death for treason. Made the wet nurse stand by her as her husband and watch her lover die. Not long after, the wet-nurse met with some kinda terminal accident. HRH asked for the head to be shrunk so's she could keep part of what everyone else believed was Mr HRH. Once she'd got the head, she laid the curse on it."

"Nice. You get a name for HRH?"

"Hold on."

Dean heard the sound of pages of a notebook turning.

"Yup. Her Royal Hoodooness, Princess Usaki."

"You sure about that Bobby? Princess Usaki?"

"Pretty sure. Why?"

"Cos Missouri got Princess _Usagi_."

Sam appeared at Dean's side, prodding Dean firmly against his shoulder-blade. Still with the phone up against his ear, Dean glared at Sam whilst Sam pointed to the phone, indicating that he wanted to talk to Bobby too.

"I see. The name's are close enough, it's _gotta_ be the same broad, that what you're thinking?"

"That'd be my bet...Hang on Bobby, Sammy's here, he wants a word."

Dean impatiently handed the phone to his brother, his stance making it clear that he had no intention of giving Sam any privacy, whether or not Sam wanted it.

"Don't let Bobby hang up when you've done."

-o-

"Hey Bobby. Things goin' ok over on your end?"

"Hi Sam, yeah. Tell Dean to fill you in. What can I do for _you_, son?"

"Message from Missouri, she says when you're done, if you want to make your way here, she's got room for you to stay while we try to crap on this curse. She says to tell you that you'd be more than welcome and she could possibly use a hand."

There was a moment's silence before Bobby answered.

"Diplomatic translation skills there Sam. Missouri'll love it when I tell her. Go on kid, how many unflattering' names did she call me?...Sam? You there?"

"Um...Just the one, I think."

"Only _one_? Old girl's slippin', must be getting softer as well as older. You tell her from me; of _course_ she needs a hand and, seein' how she's asked so nicely, I'd be happy to come over an' supervise, check she's doin' things right. I need to wrap up here, chase up a possible lead on your situation, then I'll set off. Should be arrivin' tomorrow, early hours sometime. I'll give you a call half way there with a better guestimate, ok? See all of you later."

"Hold it, Dean wants another word."

"_Jeeze_! Missin' me much? Ok, but it better be quick."

-o-

Once again the phone changed hands.

"Bobby? Just hang on a sec."

Dean turned to where Sam still hovered.

"You got nowhere else to be?"

Sam surprised Dean by unexpectedly crossing his eyes and poking his tongue out at his older brother, before turning and wandering away. Sam could feel Dean's astounded gaze following him as he went.

"_Unbelievable_!"

"Something up?"

"Nahh, just getting rid of the annoying little brother, kid's got big ears, know what I mean?"

"S'funny. I know someone _just _like that. ... So, what's up with you two?"

-o-

Dean protested instantly.

"No, nothing, we're good. We are, it's just...Missouri mentioned there's got to be some kinda sacrifice made to Her Royal Pain-in-the-ass before we can even talk to her."

"Ok. What is it?"

"We don't know yet."

"But you're thinkin' it's gonna be more than crossin' her palm with silver?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Son, if the sacrifice turns out to be one of you? It'd be kinda dumb to go ahead. You two, all of us, will just have to start dealin' with and shavin' the _new you_ long-term if we came to a dead-end on finding another way to erase the curse...And no, I didn't mean that to come out soundin' like we'd all be takin' part in your ablutions."

Bobby had no way to see him, but Dean still grinned at his phone.

"Glad to hear it. Didn't realise I _had_ abluwhatevers, or are they just a Sammy thing? Sounds like something I should protect and keep hidden! Seriously though, no_ way_ Sammy and I would go for such a dumbass sacrifice deal. We'd sooner stay as we are right now. And it's _that_ that's worryin' me."

"Dean, don't sweat it, you'll still be a lady magnet, Sam's not exactly Frankenstein's monster, you know?"

"Bobby! In case you'd missed it, I'm reachin' out here?"

"Sorry kid. You carry on, I'm listenin'."

"Look Bobby, forget it. It don't matter anyhow, 'cos this curse is gettin' lifted. Right?"

"Right. Oh, and Dean? ... You being stuck long-term wearin' Sam's outer packagin'? Wouldn't confuse your big brother instincts at _all,_ and _definitely_ wouldn't stop you lookin' out for him. Whatever Sam looks like, it'll not make any difference, you'll _still _do what you do, try to keep him safe...Hear this son; you know full well that how you both look? That's not what dictates who you are. Who you _are_?That's on the inside son, rest's just gift wrap. Whichever way this plays out, you'll still be Sammy's big brother...Ok?"

There was a couple of second's pause before Dean answered.

"First Missouri and now you. Will you _all _quit mind readin'? ... Seriously Bobby, you're the best. Thanks man...Keep safe."

-o-

Sitting at the kitchen table, Sam and Missouri both looked up as Dean wandered back into the room. Sam gazed at him in curiosity, clearly wondering about the content of his brother's conversation with Bobby. Missouri, however; she was watching with eyes filled with concern. Maybe because he'd just been willing to try opening up to Bobby, Dean's communication safety catch appeared to still be off, and he shot at her with scattergun verbals.

"_Why_ Missouri? Why do you_ always_ have to stare at me like that? Ever since I was a kid, most regular look I remember gettin' off you? It's _that _one. The one that always makes me feel like you're pitying me. It freaked me out when I was a kid. Now it's just damned irritating."

Sam eyes had grown wide with shock. He had never thought Dean would be so downright rude to this woman who had never been anything to them but caring and welcoming. He felt the anger towards his brother rise up.

"_Dean_!"

Missouri silenced Sam by patting his forearm, whilst never taking her eyes off Dean. Unable to take back having given voice to his inner thoughts, Dean looked back at Missouri almost defiantly. Missouri pulled a kitchen chair around, placing it closer to her side and patted its seat, smiling up at Dean.

"Sugar, you come and sit down here by me. Sammy? Be a dear and pour your brother a coffee would you? Thank you sweetie."

Getting up to carry out his given task, Sam was surprised to see his brother comply with Missouri's invitation instead of glaring challengingly at her whilst he remained standing. Reaching out, Missouri manoeuvred the rubber band that Dean was using to hold Sam's hair back in an untidy ponytail. Dean sat perfectly still whilst she coaxed the band out. Watching, Sam began to feel like if he stayed, his presence would be an intrusion. Dean had opened a door, Sam didn't want to be the reason for it closing again and the conversation Dean clearly needed, never happen. He put Dean's fresh coffee on the table in front of him.

"I, um. I'm gonna take a shower. That ok? You two good to be alone?"

Missouri grinned.

"That alright with you Dean? You accept I'm not gonna try having my wicked way with you?"

Dean squirmed, lost for a response as he felt his, or rather his brother's, blush burning both his cheeks. He bowed his head and stared down at the colourful rug that the kitchen table stood on.

-o-

Missouri watched and waited until there was neither sight nor sound of Sam before tuning her full attention on Dean. Her gaze sweeping over his profile, tapping into her innate and lightening fast ability to both spot and to read the tell-tale signs of emotions and feelings that Dean hadn't yet mastered the ability to hide so well within his brother's face. She noted the hint of worry, it didn't need a psychic to figure he was worried about what she was about to say, and how he might then feel. She recognised the shot of stubborn headed defiance, the signal that said _Yeah you got me worried, but don't_ you _kid yourself that I'll back down from it._ Wrapped around those, was the inevitable curiosity of what her answer to his long-standing big question was going to be and, topping everything off was his commitment, his unswayable readiness to challenge Missouri if necessary. Missouri smiled. Here, sat next to her, was raw Dean.

"So Dean. Seems you've spent some time over the years telling yourself that I pity you. And after keeping quiet for so long, now you want to know _why_. That the sum of it?"

Dean raised his head, peeling his gaze away from the pattern he had been busy visually tracing in Missouri's rug and instead, turned his head to face Missouri.

"No, it's more than ... Ok, well. _Yes._ It's hard to explain Missouri. Look, how about I start over again? Ok by you?"

"Be my guest."

"Right. Thanks. See, far back as I can remember, since knowing you, you've had this kinda _Dean Look_. It's definitely always been a _Dean_ Look. As I got older, I used to secretly watch out for you giving Sammy that same look. Know what? You never have! I've always wondered about it, every time I've caught you looking at me that way again. So, come on, time to admit. What's it about? 'Cos know what? Even though I love you Missouri, I do. I think waitin' for that look again is what makes me nervous around you."

Missouri couldn't help herself, reaching out to clasp Dean's hand, she beamed.

"Why Dean! Child! You simply can't imagine how blessed you've made me feel. To _hear_ you say right out that you love me? You've made this old woman _very_ happy."

Dean squirmed self-consciously, but grinned back at Missouri and found that, at last, he felt completely at ease in her company.

"That's great. But don't think it lets you off the hook _old woman_; your turn."

-o-

From his position in the hallway, out of sight from the kitchen, Sam smiled to himself as he listened to Dean teasing Missouri. He was pleased he'd decided to ignore his conscience and, instead, stay to listen in.

-o-

Missouri nodded.

"You're right, my turn. Now don't you jump down my throat at this, but I guess _pity_ is as good a word as any. So yes, I _do_ pity you Dean, always have."

Dean started to sit forward, his mouth opening ready to protest, but he was silenced by Missouri's wagging finger.

"My turn cherry pie, remember?

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**Thanks to all of you who are following, have favored and those who have reviewed. Sorry for the delay in posting, have been keeping my grandson, year old, ran me ragged. Please review.**

**NC**


	19. Chapter 19

_Dedicated to __**Klu,**__ who wanted a mirror scene - from both of us :)_

**C19**

-oOo-

"You probably don't remember when we first met? You were a frightened little boy, just lost his mama in dreadful circumstances. I felt pity for you then. It would've taken a hard heart not to. But I noticed something else. I saw the way your eyes followed your pa's, John's, every move. But it wasn't him you were really watching, it was the babe in John's arms. Every time your baby brother made a sound, there you were, checking on him, tellin' your pa Sammy's hungry, Sammy's wet, Sammy's feeling poorly, Sammy's had a poop, he's done this, he needs that. Soon as you could, you took over, caring for Sammy like a father, always lookin' out for him. Dean, I saw you sacrifice your own childhood in order to make certain Sam's was the best you could make it, despite John's obsession and neglect. So I pitied you then, for what you couldn't have, for what it took from you to do your best for your brother, for the pressure John put you under, for how hard you worked to try to be what Sammy needed, and your pa wanted. And I pitied the fact that you didn't have a big brother of your own, Dean. Someone who could have done for you, all of the things you've done for Sam so you didn't have to give up so many things that you should have had. When I look at you _like that_, as you put it, it's not pity Dean, it's my own heart breaking for you, all over again."

-o-

Sam felt torn. A part of him wished desperately that he'd done the right thing; that he'd gone and had his shower like he'd said he was going to do. But now he _couldn't_ go; he _had_ to stay, had to know what the impact of Missouri's words had on his brother, wanted to hear what Dean would say. For a while, there was no sound from the kitchen. Sam pictured his brother, head down, whilst he processed Missouri's words, tried them on for size, and decided whether he wanted to wear them. When Dean did finally speak, Sam was astonished at how calm and in control Dean sounded.

"I hear you Missouri, I do. Now you listen to me. Stop feeling bad for me; 'cos you know what? I don't, so_ you_ don't have any right to."

"Excuse _me_?"

Missouri amicably huffed and rolled her eyes, her movements managing to lift the mood a little.

"I don't, do I, fine, so by all means my boy, why don't you just go right ahead an' put me straight?"

Dean shrugged.

"Ok, sure. Don't get me wrong, I wish more than anythin' that mom hadn't died, that she was still around now; her and my dad both. But, accepting that she couldn't be there, I want _you_ to understand this. I had the best childhood ever! I was the luckiest kid alive back then, and I still feel lucky now. 'Cos what you seem to be forgettin', is that I had Sam. And whatever I did or didn't give up, I've chosen to do the things I've done, for him. 'Cos I had the best little brother that anyone could wish for, and I've still got him. And truthfully; I honestly don't know whether I'd change what happened if I could. Not if it meant things would be different between me and him, not if it meant missing out on looking after him, and not if it meant he wouldn't be my Sammy. I really don't know if I could give that up, even if it meant having mom back."

-o-

Sam was dumbfounded. He desperately wanted to go to his brother, but to do so meant admitting he'd been listening in. So, instead, he soundlessly made his way to the room he and Dean shared, mulling over what he had just overheard, the sincerity behind his brother's words, and how privileged he felt, both at how much Dean loved him, and at his own good fortune in having Dean as his brother. Gathering up a towel and fresh clothes, he caught sight of his reflection in the dressing table mirror, Dean's face gazed back at him. Drawn to the mirror, Sam looked closely at his brother's features. He smiled, and there was Dean, smiling back at him. Sam frowned, so did Dean. Somehow though, Sam felt he wasn't quite getting the expression quite right. There was a swagger in Dean's broad smile that Sam hadn't captured. Smiling, he stared hard at the reflection, trying to puzzle out what he was doing wrong, what he was missing, and he never noticed the door to the room opening.

"Sammy? What're you doin'? Are you bein' creepy with my face, you weirdo?"

-o-

Caught unaware, Sam stuttered and stumbled over what to say.

"No...No. I'm just, I..."

Dean laughed at his brother's failed attempt to come up with a reasonable answer.

"Don't bother trying to deny it, you're practicing, aren't you, you dork? You want to know how come I always get the girl? C'mon, move over. Let me see if I've cracked the old Sammy bitch face yet."

Staring Sam's face reflected back at him in place of his own, Dean drew his eyebrows into an exaggerated frown. Narrowing his eyes, he pursed his lips, flared his nostrils and jerked his head to one side, flipping Sam's long hair sideways and back, then holding the pose, trying to speak through his tightly pursed lips.

"Wew? Wha' oo oo phink? Phink I go' i'?"

Sam's eyes bugged.

"I sooo do _not_ look like that, jerk! Hang on, how's this then? You ready to meet _Mean and Moody Dean_?"

Sam watched the change to the reflection of Dean's face as he sucked in his cheeks and pushed Dean's lips out into a ridiculously overdone pout. Lowering his head a touch, he drew the eyebrows he was seeing in the mirror together and glared up at his brother from under them.

"Hoom a dooin? Thus roit?"

Losing control of his own "Sam pose", Dean snorted with laughter.

"What's _that_ meant to be, bitch? You've got me lookin' like I'm trying to be Victoria Beckham! Right! My turn again. Look out, look out, 'cos _Sulkin' Sam's_ about!"

Downstairs, although Missouri hadn't got a clue what the two brothers were playing at, she smiled broadly at the untroubled sound of their combined laughter filling her home.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter and please leave a review.**

**NC**


	20. Chapter 20

**C20**

-oOo-

Research wasn't so bad when it was done in the garden room, comfortably ensconced in a big _pleasure-to-hug-you-sir_ armchair, with fresh coffee and a huge slab of home made cream cake. Missouri had put on some popular classical music to play low in the background and, even when the outbursts of straight rod rain were rattling against the large windows, inside Sam and Dean felt secure and comfortable. _Too_ comfortable. It wasn't until Sam was jolted awake by his head dropping forward, that he realised he had momentarily fallen asleep. He surruptisciously glanced at the other two, wondering if either one of them had noticed? Neither Missouri nor Dean showed any reaction. Sam could see Missouri was still working by the turning of pages in the large heavy book she was at that point scouring through. However, Sam smirked when he saw that Dean, far from being hard at work, was fast asleep. His brother was frozen in the position he had been in when his awake brain abruptly switched itself over into power save mode. A soft snore drifted out from under the hair flopping over Dean's face. His next inhalation sucked up a few long strands and fluttered them under his nose. Still asleep, Dean raised a wobbly hand and swiped lazily at the offending tickling sensation, but steadfastly remained asleep. Right up to the point at which his mobile rang.

"_Wha'hooffm_! Whaddo _where_?"

Startled, Missouri quickly turned in Dean's direction, then laughed.

"That's the most sensible thing you've ever said sweetie. You going to answer that?"

-o-

Dean fumbled with his cell, not recognising the caller ID number, before getting it positioned to answer.

"Yeah?"

A female voice replied, one Dean didn't recognise.

"Hello. Um, is your name Dean Winchester by any chance?"

He looked up at the other two who were staring at him, signalling them with his eyes that he had no idea who he was talking to.

"Depends, who wants to know?"

"A Mr. Bobby Singer contacted me. He said you know him? He said he was a lecturer and he's writing an article, about the difference between Hoodoo and Voodoo. He was looking for information about a relative of mine he'd come across. After we'd spoken, he asked me to give you a call, since you are apparently closer to where I live than he is currently."

"I see, and what relative would that be Miss...er?"

Dean's enquiry and the way he suddenly sat up straight attracted the full attention of his brother and Missouri.

"Oh, sorry, my name's Lucenda and Mr. Singer said he is trying to piece together the history of my great-great grandmother. He said you and your brother is it? That you're his research assistants."

Dean's body language altered, becoming tense, alert, like a man on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the wind to change before he jumped.

-o-

Trying to figure out what had grabbed Dean's attention so completely, Sam mouthed, _What? Who is it_? Dean brushed him off with a frown and a wave, continuing to listen to the person on the phone.

"I was always told that my great-great grandmother was a Hoodoo Princess."

"Wait a minute, are you telling me that you're related to Usagi, Usaki, whichever?"

Sam and Missouri stared at each other open-mouthed.

"Usa_gi._ And yes, I am. Mr. Singer thought it might be useful for us to meet?"

"Lucenda, that would be _awesome_! Whereabouts do you live?"

Sam grinned, his expression both excited and hopeful.

"It's only an hour or so from Lawrence, south-west of you, in Emporia."

"Listen, would you mind if my brother and I drop over and pay you a visit in the morning?"

"No, not at all. That was why I was calling; I think I might well be able to help with the article."

"Great, hold on?"

Dean motioned for Sam to give him a pen and paper.

"Ok, give me your address and we'll drop by tomorrow."

He began to write directions down.

"Right, got that, sunflowers. Listen Lucenda, thanks for agreeing to meet with us. You've no idea how much it means. Really, I'm glad you called."

-o-

"So? Spill. Who _was_ that? Do you think it's genuine? How did this Lucenda sound? What time you think we should set off tomorrow? What about Bobby though. What if he's not arrived by the time we're set to go? Did this woman sound friendly?...Dean?"

Dean shook his head in wonder.

"Oh boy Sammy! Any chance you could try not to piss in the pie with excitement? As far as she, Lucenda, is concerned, we're Bobby's research assistant nuts! _She_ thinks she's been asked to help out with info we can feedback to Bobby for a journal article he's going to write and try to get published. With any luck though, she might able to give us what we need. Lucenda, you probably guessed, is the help, the great-great granddaughter of our hoodoo princess bitch. She lives about an hour from here and it's her we're going to see tomorrow."

"You're kidding me!"

"See, I told you boys things will work out. This may be exactly the lead we needed." Missouri smiled.

-o-

The brothers were up early the next morning eager to be on the road to Emporia, their hopes high that this living relative, the great-great granddaughter of Princess Usagi, would be able to shed some light on their predicament and, more importantly, the steps to lifting the curse. Heading to the kitchen, they found that Missouri was up even earlier than _they_ were, humming softly to herself; she was already busy making toast. Glancing back over her shoulder at the brothers, she smiled.

"Good morning you two. Sammy, toast's about ready. Be a dear, in that cupboard you'll find sweet condiments. Butter's in the refrigerator. Dean, you're coffee monitor today. Either of you want cereal?"

For the two Hunters, breakfast was spent in a rare bubble of warm and relaxed normality, one where Sam grinned so much that Dean demanded to know what he was up to, pointing out that neither of them had officially declared a prank war.

-o-

"So, we'll be heading out soon Missouri. Bobby rang earlier, not too happy. He's been delayed, says somehow a stone managed to hit the windshield. He's had to get somebody out, didn't trust the windshield to stay in one piece for the rest of his journey. He said to tell you he should be here in a couple of hours. He kept goin' on about there being no stones on the road and no sign of the stone that hit him." Dean told Missouri as he filled a cup with coffee. "Maybe he should try and rest when he gets here, sound like he's gone without sleep for too long."

"Don't you worry about Bobby Stubborn old Fool Singer, Dean sweetie. I'll soon have _him_ sorted out. You two just go charm this woman, get her to tell you everything she knows, however insignificant, and you just leave Bobby to me. Now, you boys be careful, don't be doin' nothing stupid, you hear?"

As she cautioned them, Missouri let her eyes linger especially longer on Dean than she did on Sam, suggesting Dean was the one most likely to get hot-headed. Sam assured her with a knowing nod that he would watch out for his big brother.

"We'll be sensible, I promise...Er, Bobby said to tell you he'd be happy to help in any way he could."

Amusement twinkled in Missouri's eyes.

"Bobby Singer said that? Now I _know_ you're lying Sam." she chastised teasingly.

Sam had the decency to blush as he swallowed hard, feeling like a kid found with his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

"That's ok Sam. That old coot and I can exchange banter and gossip when he gets here. One of you call us and let us know when you're on your way back."

-o-

Dean began slowing down as he pulled into the town of Emporia. He glanced at his brother who held the directions he had written in one hand, and was tracing his finger over a map with the other.

"Take a left up ahead and start looking for _Roy's Country Store."_

"Left. Right?"

Eyes on the road, Dean grinned when in his proriferal view, he caught Sam glance at him before going into eye roll mode.

"How much farther?" Sam asked looking around at the town.

"Maybe ten minutes, she said to turn right at the country store and head back out-of-town, her place is five miles out."

Dean spotted the country store and signalled to take the two lane road beside the store. He checked the odometer reading so he would know when they were close to the woman's address.

"She said on the phone that there's a mail box with sunflowers painted on it at the bottom of her drive. The house is like a fourth of a mile on down. Keep your eyes peeled."

"Sunflowers; got it." Sam repeated; starting to check out the mail boxes they drove by.

-o-

Sam rolled the window down and took a deep breath of fresh air. The sun shone down in all its glory making the morning dew sparkle like diamonds randomly tossed across the fields by some unseen force. For a moment, Sam could almost let himself believe they were just out for a ride to enjoy the beauty of the day, but reality likes to slap you in the face and throw you a curve ball.

"There." Sam pointed. "Sunflowers, it's that drive, just ahead."

-o-

Dean turned the Impala onto a gravel road and slowly drove down the tree-lined drive. As they neared the house the trees gave way to an open area with a quaint one story house sitting to the right. It had a large front porch and beds of flowers in the front yard. Pulling the car behind a small SUV, he parked and got out looking around for any possible danger. Sam exited the passenger side noticing a garden behind the house and a chicken coop. Without warning two large African Ridgeback dogs bounded from behind the house barking fiercely, causing the brothers to stand motionless.

Dean spoke slowly as he reached for his gun.

"Stay put Sammy. I'll handle this...Easy there fellahs."

Sam hissed in panic at his brother.

"Dean! No!...You _can't_ just shoot her dogs."

"Why not?"

"Zeus, Sampson! _Down_!"

A feminine voice yelled to the dogs from behind the house. A young woman walked around the corner behind the dogs and stopped, eyeing the two men with a scrupulous gaze. Both dogs stood in front of their mistress, daring either of the Hunters to make a move toward her. Dean broke the silence, speaking in a friendly tone to the woman.

"I'm Dean Winchester. I talked to you on the phone yesterday?"

The woman's face lit up with recognition at his voice and she smiled.

"Yes, Dean! So you're Sam. Lucenda, hi. Come on around back both of you, I was just working in the garden. We can talk on the screened porch if that's alright by you? Kids, go play."

The two dogs obediently loped toward the back yard.

-o-

Sam and Dean followed the woman around the house onto a large screened in back porch. Everything about the place was neat and well-kept.

"Have a seat, I need to wash my hands." she motioned to chairs around a wooden table. "I'll only be a moment."

Sam kept his voice to a whisper as he pulled out a chair to sit down.

"She seems nice."

Not willing to take anything at face value, Dean was more cautious in his judgement.

"We'll see."

Lucenda came back out carrying a tray with drinks and slices of pie. Dean eyes lit up for a moment at the sight of the pie as Lucenda set the tray down on the table and smiled at him.

"I thought you might like something to snack on and drink. I made this pie fresh this morning. I usually supply the country store with pies and sweets."

Dean cut a piece of pie and put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and savoured the flavours and the melt in your mouth crust. Now this was one good pie.

"Ma'am, you definitely know how to make pie." he hummed. "This is the best."

"Wow." Sam added. "I don't usually eat pie, but my brother's right, this' amazing."

Lucenda blushed at the clearly genuine complements.

"Why thank you. I'm glad you like it."

-o-

Dean started, not wasting any time, wanting to find out what she knew and whether this relative of the curse casting Princess could actually be of any help to them.

"So, Lucenda, you said on the phone last night that you might be able to help us?"

Lucenda gazed at each brother both of whom, on the outside at least, appeared relaxed and at ease. Their eye's telling a different story, both men looking at her with hope and a need to hear that she had an answer to some complex problem or other. She frowned; her intuition telling her there was something other than academic research behind this visit.

"This is probably going to sound freaky but I'm getting a sense that...Well. Is there something going on here? Has something happened to you two that you think could be linked to Usagi?"

Dean's eye's narrowed and, for a moment, he looked to be in pain.

"Dean? Are you ok? You look a little..._Off_?"

Turning, Sam saw what Lucenda was seeing and he surprised her by laughing

"He's fine. I think that's his current concentrating face. He's testing whether or not you can mind-read."

Embarrassed, Dean shot Sam a glare.

"Gee, thanks bro'."

"Testing if I...? Why on earth would you think I can read your mind?"

Glaring again at his still grinning brother, Dean shook his head.

"Forget it, it's just, a thing. Anyway. To answer your question? Yes, see, there was kind of accident with a certain shrunken head, and well, I know this' gonna sound crazy but, um ... Sammy?"

"What Dean's being so coy about saying is that, something happened to us, and we've switched bodies. I mean, I'm Sam, but I'm supposed to look like that."

Sam pointed to Dean as he spoke, who nodded at Lucenda, supporting Sam's statement. Much to the surprise of both Hunters, Lucenda neither burst into hysterical laughter _nor_ set her dogs on them. Instead, she looked from one to the other, pursing her lips and sighing.

"Oh _crap_. Guys, I'm _truly_ sorry. I honestly thought all that kinda creeped out foul stuff had been destroyed by now. Damn, I didn't even know the head still existed! Where the hell did _that_ thing turn up? You're certain it's the same one that's supposed to have belonged to that twisted bitch Usagi? Hell! Don't even answer that. Of _course_ it's the Maid Head, why wouldn't it be? Goddamn it! I've worked all my life to stay out of that, cut all contact with that side of the family, told them _all_ to go screw. And now? _Goddamn it_!

By this point, Lucenda seemed to be very much talking to herself, the presence of Sam and Dean almost forgotten. Dean coughed in order to draw her attention back to them.

"Lucenda? Can you help us?"

* * *

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	21. Chapter 21

**C21**

-oOo-

Sam was sure he had nothing urgent planned, so why would someone be hollering at him to wake up, like he was late? Well screw them, he wanted to sleep in and he was damn well going to.

"F'koff. M'shleep."

Dean shrugged apologetically at Lucenda before turning back to his uncooperative brother.

"Sammy. Quit swearin' an' open your freakin' eyes."

"P'soff."

Dean sighed.

"Here, let me try."

"Be my guest."

Dean and Lucenda swapped places so that Lucenda now knelt at the side of the couch where, between them, they had laid Sam after carrying his inert form into the main house.

She opened her first aid kit and rummaged around until she found smelling salts.

"Sam, you need to wake up, you're scaring your brother." she said breaking the capsule under his nose.

Sam immediately responded by jerking away from the smell and looking around wildly as he tried to get off the couch.

"Hold on slugger, it's ok." Dean cautioned him laying a hand on his leg to keep him from getting up. "Not so fast."

"What the hell happened?" Sam questioned in a shaky voice as he looked from one face to the other for an answer.

"What do you remember?"

"We were in the storage space trying to get to the trunk. You were handing me paintings and then..." Sam paused for a moment as his face scrunched in pain.

"Here Sam, drink something." Lucenda urged holding a bottle of water for him.

Sam accepted the water and took several large swallows before calming his shaking body. He cleared his throat and continued.

"It was that last painting. I saw and felt your Mom..The accident..Trapped...burning. It was like I was in the car too."

"Oh my God! Oh Sam I's so sorry, but why did that happen to you? None of the others seemed to bother you did they?"

"Just a tingly feeling, Lucenda, did your parents have enemies?" Sam asked softly.

Lucenda looked at Sam in shock that he would even suggest such a thing.

"Sammy what are you getting at?" Dean asked with concern.

"I felt someone or something was there, just outside of my vision. Couldn't make it out, I don't know, maybe it was nothing." he said rubbing his head that was now pounding like a bass drum. "But I think your Mom was having visions about her death."

"Dammit to hell, I should have known." Lucenda grimaced, squaring her shoulder and gritting her teeth. Fire danced around in her eyes as her face darkened in rage.

"What is it?" Dean asked not liking the vibes he was getting from her.

"My Dad's side of the family, those bastards, they were trying to collect everything they could that had any connection with Hoodoo and great, great-grandmother. I remember coming in on my uncle threatening my parents. Neither would tell me what it was about. I did some digging and learned some of the stupid jacklegs wanted to try to bring Usagi back or at least summon her for God knows what. Let me tell you, you find something in that trunk, you contact me; I want to be there. I want to destroy that b*tch." Lucenda said with such venom and disgust.

"Sammy you stay here, I can get the trunk." Dean told his brother and headed back to the storage area.

"Lucenda, I'm sorry." Sam said softly laying a hand on her arm.

"No Sam, I'm sorry, I am so tired of all this crap still coming out after all these years. Maybe if she can be destroyed then all the things she tainted will die with her. Let me get you something for that headache, I have aspirin in the bathroom." she told the young hunter and headed down the hall.

Sam looked up as Dean came back into the living room huffing and sweaty.

"She was right; it was heavier than it looked. Think you ok to go?"

"Here Sam, take these." Lucenda instructed Sam as she shook two pills into his palm.

"Thanks." Sam said popping them in his mouth and downing the rest of the water. "We're going to go now, but we'll be in touch with what we find and thank you for helping us."

"Thanks for the pie, it was awesome." Dean added as he shook her hand.

"Hold on, I'll give you one to take with you, I had enough apples to make five. Wait right here and I'll wrap it for you."

"Sammy, this may be what we need, maybe there's something in the trunk that will help us."

"I hope so too." he responded looking out across the yard lost in thought.

"Here you go boys. Drive safe and you have my number, call me if I can help." she told them offering Sam a wrapped package and warm smile.

"Thanks for everything." he nodded getting into the car.

Dean turned around and slowly headed back down the driveway anxious to get back to Missouri's and open the trunk to see what hopefully might be the answer for them to reverse this curse and get their own bodies back.

* * *

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**

**NC**


	22. Chapter 22

**Since the last chapter was short, thought I'd give you another one. Thank you so much for all of you following, favoring and reviewing. We have had a great time writing this story and adding the humor and bro moments. Leave us a review.**

**NC**

* * *

**C22**

-oOo-

Lucenda sat in her lounge, legs curled under her on the couch, a glass of red wind in one hand with Samson curled up on the couch at one side of her, and Zeus at the other. It was a familiar position for the three of them to take up whilst Lucenda channel surfed the TV. Lucenda hadn't bothered to turn on the TV this time. Instead she sat contemplating the eighteen inch square canvas that she had propped up against a vase of fresh flowers on her coffee table. It was the last painting. The final work by her mother, before she stopped doing the thing she had loved all her life. Lucenda recalled seeing the painting whilst her mom was still working on it. She remembered being surprised at the difference between it and her mom's more familiar abstract works, and she remembered asking her mom about it, why it was so different? At the time, Lucenda was surprised at her mom's answer, but didn't actually take it seriously. Her mom had stood in front of Lucenda and clasped both her daughter's hands in her own. Lucenda recalled how sad her mom's eyes had looked at that moment and the shake of her head when she told Lucenda that she had reached the end, that there were no more pictures left inside of her. Lucenda had laughed and hugged her mom, saying she was certain her mom would soon feel inspired again. Lucenda hadn't been able to_ think_ about her mom not painting anymore, it was inconceivable; painting was such a huge part of who her mom was. And now, here she sat, looking again at the picture, the one which had, indeed, been her mom's final painting; and Lucenda decided that she loved it.

-o-

The majority of the space had simply been painted black, a perfectly smooth, eggshell black. But, in the upper right hand corner, the black seemed to have torn open, leaving a large gap with something peeking through, almost like something being viewed through a sheet of dark glass that had broken at one corner, allowing the viewer a tiny glimpse outside, hinting at the possibility of another world, a world beyond the viewer's, a world full of light and beauty. Smiling, Lucenda raised her glass, saluting the paradise that lay waiting, just on the other side of darkness.

-o-

Dean nudged Sam out of his brief nap.

"Wossit?"

"We're only a few miles from Missouri's. What do you want to do? Carry on straight there, or call in somewhere for a drink? Choice is yours."

Sam groaned as he pulled himself back up from where he had slid down his seat whilst asleep. Rubbing at his eyes, he yawned. Dean happened to glance at his brother at that same moment, he grimaced.

"Damn! Is that _really_ how I look when I'm just wakin' up? I'd always imagined the soft eyed, tousled look bein' my thing, _not_ bloodshot eyes and an aircraft hangar sized yawn!"

"Screw you."

"Oh...Nice. So what's it to be dude?"

"Honestly? I could do with a beer and time to get my head back together before facing Missouri and Bobby getting into a row over whatever's in the trunk. That ok with you?"

"You do recognise me don't you? I mean; physical appearance aside, I'm Dean."

-o-

The Impala pulled into the near empty car park of a nondescript looking bar. Looking for nothing more than a beer, the two Hunters had no interest in the style of decor in the place, just the availability of a half decent drink. As Sam and Dean exited the car, a blue Ford containing four men turned into the lot. The driver pulled into the marked bay next to the Impala. Dean immediately hesitated, this bar clearly wasn't the group's first stop and the three passengers, all in their late twenties to mid thirties, began to pile out of the Ford, laughing and swearing at one another loudly. Glancing at Sam, Dean jerked his head towards the bar entrance.

"You go place our order; I'll be right behind you, left my wallet in the car."

Sam knew Dean was bull shitting him, and that Dean was really hanging around to make certain no harm came to his baby, but he went with it anyway.

"Sure. See you inside."

Sam was walking towards the bar entrance when the driver of the Ford climbed out and spotted the gleaming black Impala that he'd parked next to, stumbling slightly he walked around to where Dean stood at the driver's side of the Impala. Grinning, his eyes still roaming appreciatively over Dean's baby, the man came to a stand-still beside Dean.

"This yours dude? 'Cos it's _mint_. I mean, I love it! I do! What year is it?"

The guy's three friends were heading towards the bar; calling for their mate to stop leering at the big car and get his ass inside, it was his round. Dean had relaxed when the rest of the group moved off and he answered the guy, ensuring he didn't sound like he was inviting any further conversation.

"Sixty-seven. Excuse me would you?"

The guy took a step back as Dean unlocked the door and made a show of searching through the glove compartment.

"I'll bet she's expensive on the old gas, eh? Still, she's a beaut. You had it long? Looks well cared for. Paint work's good."

Dean straightened up and turned. The guy was walking the length of the car, running his hand over the roof, down the edge of the rear window and on to the trunk. Dean was about to tell the guy to get his paws off the paint work, when the guy suddenly acted as though Dean wasn't there, walking away without a word or a backward glance, heading to the bar. Dean frowned as he watched the guy go inside.

"Freakoid."

With a glance at the paint work on the off-chance the weirdo had deliberately scratched his baby; Dean gave the roof a pat before going to join Sam indoors.

"I won't be long Hon, don't worry, no one's gonna hurt you."

-o-

Sam waved Dean over as he walked in. It wasn't hard to figure out where the gang of four had got to, given the noise levels coming from over by the pool tables. Dean glared in their direction as he wandered across to join Sam, pausing when he noticed the Ford driver standing still, not joining in with his mates' drunken banter and seemingly staring off into the distance. Dean decided he'd been right. The guy was a definite freakoid.

"Everything ok? Why're you staring at that guy? He insult your baby?"

Dean dragged his eyes away from the man and turned to smile at his brother as he sat down opposite him, his back to the drunken pool players.

"Course not! What's to insult? He called her _mint_, though I can't figure out why?

Sam laughed.

"You really are stuck in a time warp Dean. _Mint_, cool mint, _cool._ Geddit?"

Dean curled his lip.

"So why not just say that then?"

"Do you know how much you're startin' to sound like Bobby?"

"Idjit!"

Sam didn't answer, his line of sight fixed on a point somewhere behind Dean, and then he moved. Beer bottles smashed on contact with the bar's stone floor, knocked off the table by Sam throwing himself bodily over it, his hands reaching out for Dean. Dean's natural instinct was to go backwards, his faith in his brother stopped him and his body moved with Sam's as Sam grabbed the front of Dean's jacket and heaved him sideways. Something hot streaked across Dean's shoulder-blade as he let Sam guide his direction, then he was dropping to the floor whilst Sam leaped over him. Rolling on his back, Dean looked for Sam, seeing his brother holding onto the Ford driver and slamming the guy's right wrist hard against a table edge. Dean tracked the path of something falling from the guy's hand and clattering to the floor. He heard the sound of flesh on flesh, and the Ford driver dropped into Dean's view, his head bouncing against the floor twice, and then he was still. Moving to his knees, Dean reached under the table and grabbed the handle of the scalpel that was lying there, hearing the sound of people shouting above him, the loudest of them being his brother.

"_**Back off**_! _All of you_!"

Swiftly getting to his feet, Dean did a quick visual of the situation. The unconscious Ford driver's buddies were all close to being within striking distance of Sam, who was calmly pointing his Taurus at each of them in turn. The barman appeared to have gone off duty very suddenly, a couple of hairy rockers were still seated but watching with interest, waiting to see how things played out; and an elderly couple sat, wide-eyed and afraid, clutching each other's hand. Dean spun around at the sound of the kitchen door slamming open and watched in disbelief whilst an Asian member of the kitchen staff jogged through, came to a halt and began spinning, throwing, and catching a twirling meat cleaver, his eyes darting from person to person, daring anyone to come near him. Ignoring the meat clever spinning chef entirely, Dean turned his attention back to Sam, whose own focus remained fixed on the three men spread in a semi-circle in front of him.

"You ok Dean?"

"I'm fine. What the Hell happened?"

The three Ford passengers seemed to take Dean's question as permission to all try to talk at once. It was clear to Dean's practiced eye that the group were actually what they appeared to be, girlfriendless, thirty something's, out on a bar crawl, trying to get hitched up. Dean raised one arm and motioned for quiet, his other hand dipping swiftly and unnoticed in and out of the back pocket on his jeans.

"_All of you_. Shut...The...Frigg..._Up_! ... Better...Now. One of you want to come check your pal here, see if he merits a 911? That's ER and some time in a comfy cell, where everyone _can_ hear you scream, but no-one will admit it. _FBI_...I'm Agent Bark, this' my partner, Agent Reaper. Some of you might say his name's appropriate, but take my advice, _don't_."

Dean held his fake ID up high. There was the sound of a meat clever crashing to the floor and Dean's head spun around in time to catch the cleaver tossing cook "strolling" rapidly towards the kitchen door.

"_Hey_! Jet Li! You've left something behind."

-o-

Whilst one of his three friends knelt at the side of the Ford guy and tried to wake him, Dean reached out and laid a hand on Sam's forearm, guiding Sam's arm down.

"You can put the gun away Agent. You've made your point."

There was a groan from floor level followed by a weak sounding question.

"What? Why's I on the' floor? I miss something'? Ow-w, my head! Woss 'appennin'?

-o-

The gang of four sheepishly exited the bar, having first promised Dean that they wouldn't allow their concussed friend to get behind the wheel. Watching the Ford slowly pull out of the lot, Dean tried to turn around, but found himself forced to remain eyes front, held in place by Sam who was attempting to get a hand under Dean's damaged top clothing and lift the layers up, in order that he could inspect Dean's injury. Muttering, Dean instantly tried to wriggle away from his younger brother and grabbed hold of his own cloths at the front hem, attempting to counter balance Sam's efforts, resulting in a tug-o'-war using Dean's clothing instead of a rope. Dean's muttering morphed into hissed, angry whispering.

"What the Hell you doing Sam? _Gerrof me_! Dude, this' a public place and we're FBI agents. People are _watching_!"

"I can see a cut in your jacket, and blood stains. The guy got you, didn't he?..._Didn't he_?"

Dean gave a final heave and stumbled free of Sam's grip, rounding on his younger brother and glaring down at him.

"Maybe, but I'm _fine_. At _least_ wait till we get to Missouri's before you undress me? I swear Sam, really, I feel fine."

"Says you! No _way_ am I letting you drive when I don't know how bad you're hurt. Keys, now, give."

-o-

Sam's voice was stern and he held out his hand. Dean stared at Sam stubbornly, but it got him nowhere. With a resigned sigh, he took the Impala's keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Sam's waiting hand. Grumbling and complaining Dean allowed Sam to manhandle him towards the car and point him at the passenger's side. As soon as he sat down, Dean hunched himself up in the seat sulkily. Sliding into the driver's seat, Sam made no move to put the key in the ignition. Dean rolled his eyes.

"What? What're you waitin' for?"

"How about an explanation? Why did that guy get it into his head to attack you Dean? What happened after I left you with him while he checked out the car?"

Dean shrugged irritably, then wished he hadn't as, with his adrenaline levels dropping, the sting from the wound kicked in.

"Nothin'. Guy asked the year she was made, I told him, he started stroking his hand over her, next thing he just walked off and headed into the bar. You were there for the rest. By the way, quick reflexes there speedy, knew my body was fast, but that was _way _awesome!"

"Dean! This' important. So, he touched the car, where?"

Dean shot a confused look at Sam.

"Excuse me?"

Sam gave an exasperated sigh.

"Did you see if he touched the trunk lid?"

Dean paused, envisaging the guy's actions. Eyes wide, he stared at Sam.

"Yeah. He did. Right before he zoned out and just wandered off...And now we're both thinkin' the trunk in the trunk had something to do with this, it managed to Hoodoo him somehow."

Sam started the engine and began manoeuvring out of the car park.

"Only explanation we've got at the moment. Maybe HRH was telling us she doesn't want us goin' through her stuff?"

"Yeah? Well, HRH can _get_ stuffed!"

-o-

Dean began shifting in his seat and grimacing.

"You ok?"

"Sticky."

"_Please _say you mean where you got cut?"

"Funny...Hey; pull over at that drug store, now."

Dean grabbed the wheel with his left hand and tried pulling it round. Sam growled and batted the long arm that was currently his brother's away.

"Dude,_ I'm_ drivin, lay off."

He pulled into the parking lot and Dean was out of the car before Sam had got it in park and was heading inside. Sam frowned, trying to figure out what the Hell his brother was up to now. _Maybe he hit his head? Gave himself a concussion? Or, maybe he's just bein' more Dean than usual! _Fifteen minutes later Dean, reappeared out of the store and slid back into the Impala with a shopping bag.

"What did you need in such a hurry?"

As he spoke, Sam eyed his brother, looking for any tell-tale signs of concussion, but seeing none. Dean wasn't being very forthcoming.

"Precautions, now drive."

Dean moved his shoulder carefully and felt more blood glide down his back. Maybe jogging into the store hadn't been a good move? Twisting around in his seat in trying to grab the blanket off the back seat wasn't too clever either and he hissed in pain as the movement tore at his shoulder.

"Dean?"

"Tryin' to reach the blanket, protect Baby's upholstery."

Sam frowned in concern.

"You still bleeding?"

"Take three guesses."

Sam said nothing, he simply pressed on the gas a little harder, determined that as soon as they got to Missouri's, he was having a look at Dean's shoulder no matter how much fuss his brother made. It was _his_ body by rights anyway, and he wasn't so fond of scars as Dean claimed to be.


	23. Chapter 23

**C23**

-oOo-

Ten minutes later he was screeching to a stop in front of Missouri's house and jumping out of the car. Rushing quickly around to the other side he jerked the door open and pulled Dean from the car.

"_Jeeze_! Why the drama? Will you stop it! I've told you, I'm ok."

Dean gritted his teeth against the sudden movement and tried to push Sam away. Sam merely tightened his grip on his brother and guided him toward the door. Before they could get up the steps onto her porch, Missouri had the door open and was running her eyes over the two brothers.

"Lords! Can't you two boys go anywhere without one of you getting hurt? Hurry, come on indoors."

She steps aside whilst Sam steered Dean into the house.

"But Missouri! It wasn't our fault, we didn't start it. Tell her Sammy, and _stop haulin' on me dude_!"

"Let go of him Sam. Dean...In the kitchen and sit, Sam and I need to see what damage there is, like it or not child. Go on now."

Missouri hurried Sam after his chuntering brother and rolled her eyes as she followed them both into her cosy kitchen, already composing a list of what she would need to attend to the injury.

-o-

No sooner had Dean sat down, Sam was there carefully peeling off the blood stained denim jacket and moving on to shuffle Dean's flannel shirt off. Looking at Dean's tee, it was obvious the injury was still bleeding steadily, testament to the sharp edge of the scalpel. Sam stared at the position of the wound, replaying in his mind the sight of blue ford guy turning away from his friends, his eyes staring, unblinking. The man had strode purposefully towards Dean, pulling out the weapon from an inside jacket pocket. Sam hadn't seen what the guy was holding clearly, it was the flash of a light off the blade that alerted him to trouble, not willing to call out and risk Dean turning to look instead of moving, Sam launched, grabbing Dean and manhandling him sideways off his chair. Re-playing the scene, Sam paled at the realization that had he not taken the action he did, the scalpel was destined for Dean's jugular. Swallowing hard, Sam grabbed the hem of the tee and, cautious of Dean's injury, pulled it up and over his brother's head.

"Well Doc. How's it look?"

Sam didn't answer straight away.

"Missouri? Could I have a...Oh, thanks."

Missouri hesitated in handing Sam the fresh towel and damp cloth he wanted.

"You know, I can do this honey, if you'd like me to?"

Sam smiled as he took the cloth and towel from the woman's hands.

"I know you can ma'am but, I've got this. It's kinda my job, always has been?"

"Well alright. You just tell me if you need anything fetching then."

Under Missouri's watchful eyes, Sam returned to his task.

"I'm gonna have to clean it down first Dean. I can't tell much with all the blood."

Dean sounded surprised.

"It's still bleedin'?"

"Scalpel, you know? They're kinda designed to go deep, fast."

-o-

Sam cleaned the blood from around the wound as best he could before placing the index finger of each hand on either side of the cut and prising it apart, hissing when he saw how deep the blade had managed to sink before being dragged through Dean's skin.

"Sammy? You _hissed._ Why're you hissin'? Don't do the hissin' thing again. How bad can it _be_? It had to get completely through my clothes first, right? So what's with the damn hissin'?"

Surveying the damage the scalpel had done, Sam glanced at Missouri. With a quick nod, she headed off to grab the equipment Sam would need to sew his brother up. Sam's need to care for his brother himself felt almost like a living entity to Missouri. She sensed it folding itself around the pair, like a protective shield, keeping her at bay without any malice.

-o-

Dean was starting to become impatient.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah. Right. Well, um, it's got a clean edge obviously, so that's good. It slants downwards, goes all the way across your shoulder-blade. Also? It looks like he stabbed at first, near your spine, then the blade got dragged upwards as you fell sideways and down."

"I _didn't_ fall; I was _pushed_...Or pulled...Anyway, whichever way round, it was _you_."

"Fine! Excuse me for not wanting to see _you_ get _my_ throat sliced wide open! This needs stitches where the blade entered, it's too deep to risk leaving open. You'll be pleased to hear that the bleeding looks to be finally slowing down."

"Good, 'cos I was starting to get a little light-headed."

Sam frowned but said nothing; it wasn't like Dean to admit something like that.

Missouri returned with a basin of clean, warm water and a couple more fresh towels, wrapped up in the towels she carried her med-kit containing, amongst other things. needle, thread and scissors. Sam was soon ready to make a start. He fished a bottle of peroxide out of the kit and unscrewed the top.

"Ok, you know the drill, this' gonna hurt."

Taking the bottle of peroxide, Sam poured it over the wound, using a towel to mop up the excess. Dean grunted and dropped his head, gritting his teeth and cursing hotly under his breath, feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck and off his forehead, dripping on the table top.

"_Sonova_...! Enough already!"

Satisfied it was clean, Sam handed the much depleted bottle of peroxide over to Missouri, who gave him a reassuring smile. Sam turned his attention to the needle and thread that Missouri produced out of the kit, and he nodded his thanks.

"Right bro. Time to stitch you up."

"Have to point out Sammy, you've been doin'_ that_ to me all my life!"

Sam grinned.

"What else are little brothers for? Right, here we go. Let me know if you need a break."

"Uh huh."

-o-

Missouri sat herself down by Dean's side and placed a hand on his.

"Dean Honey? You just keep looking at me now, you hear? You focus on me."

Dean turned his head and half smiled at Missouri, trying not to flinch when he felt the needle in Sam's capable hands pierce his skin.

"We've brought pie back with us."

Missouri grinned.

"Really. Pie? You brought a pie back?"

In her mind's eye, she tried to fix on the fleeting images Dean was unknowingly projecting of a young woman and two dogs. The woman was holding something out to Dean.

"Ahhh, Lucenda. She gave you the pie? So you found her...And something happened there. Something unexpected?

Missouri looked over at Sam's pale face as he concentrated on sewing up the wound and getting the bleeding stopped. She sensed there was more to this story than she could glean from the boys right now. Missouri lifted her head.

"Ah, Bobby will be here in a couple of minutes."

Dean distracted himself by listening for the sound of Bobby's truck.

"I don't hear him."

Missouri smiled at Dean and winked. A couple of minutes later, Dean heard a vehicle, its engine noise familiar as it pulled up. A door slammed closed outside, and a few seconds later, a knock could be heard echoing into the kitchen. Missouri stood up.

"I'll go get that, shall I?"

-o-

Bobby waited patiently at the door as he scanned the area for any threats. He saw the boy's Impala parked in front of the house. He was about to knock again, when the door opened to reveal Missouri.

"Bobby Singer, it's been a while since you last stood on my doorstep you old coot! You just bring your sorry ass in here and give me a hug."

Bobby grinned down at the psychic and obliged her with a tight hug.

"Missouri...It's been too long. You got the coffee made yet woman?"

As Bobby stepped over the threshold into the room, he was met with a pained yell echoing from the kitchen as Sam poured alcohol over Dean's wound.

"_Sonofabitch_! What the Hell Sammy?"

Dean decided he'd had enough of his brother's interventions and started to stand up.

"You know it needs to be sterilized so it won't get infected. I don't want to get a body that's oozing with icky stuff back. Now stay still."

"What in blue blazes is goin' on in here?"

Bobby walked quickly into the kitchen, to a scene that stopped him in his tracks.

-o-

Sam, (in Dean's body), had a knee over Dean's, (in Sam's body), legs by way of holding Dean down to a chair whilst he used his own, (temporarily) body to block the use of Dean's right arm. Sam held a towel around the left shoulder and was liberally pouring alcohol over it. Dean stiffened and screamed some unspeakable and interesting words into Sam's chest. Dean's body was trembling with exhaustion when Sam, at last, stopped the torture of his older brother. Releasing his brother, Sam stepped quickly back.

"Bobby. Good to see you." Dean gritted out as Sam finished his cleaning and an inspection of his handiwork.

-o-

Sam applied ointment and a dressing to the stitched area, taping it down carefully.

"What did you two idjits step in now?"

"Some kinda possession I think. Here, take these." Sam insisted holding two pain pills out to Dean.

Dean plucked the pills out of his brother's hand and swallowed them down with some water, relishing the cold liquid as it washed over his dry throat. Now if the pounding in his head would just stop before it exploded, he figured he'd almost feel half human. Sam held out an arm, helping to steady his brother as Dean stood up, looking around in surprise at finding himself a little wobbly.

"Bobby can you help me? Dean needs to lie down for a while."

"No I don't, I'm fine."

Dean groaned as he spoke.

"S'just a headache is all, stop fussing around will you?"

Watching, Missouri spoke up.

"You can use my room; it'll be a whole load easier than shoving him upstairs."

Missouri directed them to a room further down from the kitchen.

"While you get Dean settled, I'll go get Mr Singer here some coffee going."

-o-

With Bobby's help, Sam wrestled his stubborn brother into the room and over to the bed, gaining a lot more respect for his big brother, seeing how hard it was to manage his body when it was a dead weight and still fighting. Dean had it down to a science, but Sam was struggling in his brother's body as he made it to the bed. How Dean handled him over the years was impressive.

"Bobby, get his jeans. They're nasty; don't want to mess Missouri's bed up."

Sam steadied Dean as Dean looked down at himself, confused.

"Why're they nasty? They're my favourite."

Sam sighed.

"There's blood on them at the back and it looks like you cleaned the bar room floor with them."

"Oh."

Bobby frowned.

"He goin' to be alright?"

"Yeah, there's been more blood loss than I thought by the time we got here. He just needs rest."

Sam threw back the covers and positioned Dean on the side of the bed so he could get his boots and jeans the rest of the way off. Dean grumbled as Sam helped him to lay down by lifting his legs on the bed. Making sure Dean was comfortable; Sam pulled the blanket over his body and tucked him in. Dean gazed up at Sam.

"Ok, Florence, I'll stay, but trunk..."

Dean yawned and snuggled further into the blanket. Some times, only sometimes, it was nice to be looked after.

"Trunk...Don' 'pen... 'ait fer me."

Dean's eyes slid shut and he began snoring softly. Sam patted his hand, knowing exactly what his brother was getting at. There was no _way in hell_ he would attempt to open the truck without Dean being there.

"Yeah, I'll wait, you rest, get rid of that headache, bro'."

Sam lovingly brushed the long hair from the all too familiar face that his brother was wearing and then felt his forehead to be sure Dean wasn't running a fever. Satisfied, he and Bobby made their way back to the kitchen were the smell of coffee was wafting comfortingly through the air.

-o-

"Sweet Boy, you look like you been put through the wringer and hung up wet." Missouri commented to Sam as he helped to clean the table.

Sam sighed as his adrenaline high ebbed away and exhaustion took over.

"I feel like it too."

"Why don't you go get that pie your brother mentioned and then you can fill us in on what happened to you two?"

"Alright, yeah. We left the pie in the car."

Sam stretched his back, hearing things pop as he made his way outside to retrieve the pie and whatever it was that Dean had bought. Sam would be _really_ glad to get his own body back; being stuck inside someone else's was way tougher than he expected, especially his difficulties when he was using his brother's body.

-o-

Missouri had the coffee poured and was sitting at the freshly scrubbed table when Sam finally trudged back into the kitchen. He sat the bag with the pie on the table and opened the other bag, looking in curiously.

"What ya got there?" Bobby asked seeing the puzzled look on his face.

"Dean made me stop at a drug store for some reason, he bought these."

Sam pulled a box of masks, two sizes of latex gloves and four pairs of safety glasses from out of the bag.

"Did he say why?"

"_Precaution_, not really sure for what."

"Well you can ask him when he wakes up, now let's have some pie and you have a story to tell us Sam."

Missouri had taken the pie out and sliced pieces for everyone. Sam quickly became the centre of attention as they wait for him to begin.

* * *

**Here we go another chapter for your reading pleasure. Thank you so much for all who are following have favored and especially those who have left us reviews. Writing this story with Chick Feed has been such a wonderful experience for me. I do hope everyone is enjoying this journey with us. If you have a moment please leave us a review.**

**NC**


	24. Chapter 24

**C24**

-oOo-

Bobby eyed Missouri across the table.

"So, any thoughts on our blue Ford guy? Does it sound like a possession to you?"

Missouri stared thoughtfully at Sam; then shook her head.

"No. It doesn't. Not in the whole demon or evil spirit type of possession. Though there was certainly _some_ kind of influence dictating that poor man's actions."

Bobby gave a grim smile.

"So, we're thinkin' somethin' in the trunk was trying to manipulate the Ford guy into killing Dean?"

"I guess so."

"Sam, any clue about why it targeted Dean and didn't just go for you, or for the both of you?"

"Well...Dean's the only one who's touched the trunk out of the two of us, maybe _that's _why. Maybe when he touched it, something inside was activated? Something that, I dunno, marked him?"

Missouri raised her eyebrows.

"It would have to be some sort of magical booby trap around the outside of the trunk to do that, a sort of trip wire spell. That would suggest it had been put in place _after_ the trunk was put in the storage area. From how you described the place, that would have been a risky thing to do, that child could have triggered it at any time."

Bobby shook his head, frowning.

"Don't explain the Ford guy either. He didn't touch the trunk, only the Impala. You got the keys handy Sam?"

-o-

Sam still had the keys to the Impala from driving himself and his brother from the bar back to Missouri's, but he wasn't happy to hand them over just yet.

"I have, but Dean specifically asked that we wait for him before opening the trunk."

"I get it. Don't get your panties knotted. I just want me and Missouri to take a look at the thing. I promise we won't move it or open it. That do you kid?"

"Ok. But I'm coming with you."

-o-

Sam and Bobby watched quietly as Missouri stood, eyes closed, with her hands held inches above the closed trunk of the Impala. Within a short while, she slowly opened her eyes again.

"Well woman? Feel anythin'?"

Missouri looked puzzled, staring at the trunk of the car as if she were trying to see right through it.

"I _do_ have a name you old goat, and I'll thank you to use it. No. There's nothing here that I can feel. Not even a residue, most odd."

"Maybe you're losin' your touch? Ok Sam, let's open her up."

At the same moment that Sam opened the trunk of the Impala; Missouri gave a small cry and staggered backwards as if she had been pushed. Bobby was at her side instantly.

"You ok old girl?"

Missouri clung to Bobby and he felt her trembling body.

"Oh Bobby...Such madness, so much anger! This belonged to her sure enough; I've no doubts at all. There's evil in that trunk, and our poor boys are going to have to open it up!"

Bobby glared at the dark shape of Usagi's trunk.

"Not on their own they're not. They've got us with them, you an' me old girl, an' between us, we can make quite a tag team. Ok, Sam. We've seen enough. Lock the car up and let's get back indoors. Me an' Missouri here, we got some work we need to be gettin' on with an' you got a brother to go check."

-o-

Dean woke up fighting, tied up in something that restricted his movements and that had got one of his arms firmly pinned to his side.

"G'roff me, m'warnin' yer. G'roff, leggo!"

Opening his eyes to see exactly what kind of floppy fugly had a hold of him, Dean paused, taking time out to inspect his adversary, then scanning what he could see of the room, hoping Sam wasn't there to see him lose a battle with a blanket. The lack of hysterical laughter convinced Dean that he was alone in the bedroom. Raising his torso a touch, he freed the portion of blanket he had managed to trap underneath himself and which, in turn, had pinned his arm. Finally free of the demon wool, Dean sat up carefully, testing how much pain he was in. He was relieved to find his headache was no more than a background irritation, and the tightness around his newly acquired stitches he could live with. What drove him now, was thirst. Throwing off the rest of his blanket, Dean saw that he was wearing just his briefs. A kitchen expedition would require jeans, problem was; he wasn't in the room where his clothes were. He cast around, there had to be something he could wear.

-o-

Opening the bedroom door, Dean poked his head out into the hall. The place was quiet, he couldn't hear any voices at all and his senses told him the place was empty barring himself. Wondering where the other's had gone, Dean padded bare foot down the hall and wandered into the kitchen, smiling when he spotted the half full coffee pot. In the middle of the kitchen table sat a serving dish holding the remaining third of a delicious looking pie and three plates, all bearing the evidence of having once contained the missing part of the pie. Where the others were didn't matter right then. Dean collected himself a clean fork and a mug of coffee, then sat himself down at the table and pulled the remaining pie closer. It was obvious to him that, the others each having had a piece, what was left must be for him, and he intended to do it justice.

-o-

It was one of those moments. The type of moment when, if he and his brother were in the right body, sometime later Sam would have kicked himself for not having the presence of mind to capture it as a photo for posterity, and potential future blackmail. Instead, he had stood alongside Bobby and Missouri and, like them, stared at his brother. Unlike Bobby and Missouri, Sam _didn't_ damn near collapse with laughter, instead he blushed scarlet and turned on his heels, hurrying off to get Dean some clothes, instead of the lilac satin floral dressing gown he was currently wearing. A dressing gown which, given Dean's current height in comparison to the robe's owner, Missouri, only just managed to cover his necessaries. For his part, Dean had frozen, a fork full of pie half way up to his wide open mouth, and stared in horror at the grinning audience he had just acquired. Missouri's grin evolved into a giggle, which grew to a chuckle and, finally, swiftly developed into full on helpless laughter, complete with tears streaming down her face and having to fan at herself with one hand, unable to speak through her laughter. Bobby tried his best not to give in to his powerful urge to crack up.

"Son? Is there somethin' you'd like to talk to us about?"

Dean's glare demolished Bobby's self-control, and his hearty laughter joined in with Missouri's.

* * *

**So there you have it, another embarrassing moment for Dean Winchester, sure it won't be the last if we have anything to do with it. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you to all who are following, who have favored and you readers who have left reviews. They were awesome. Please review.**

**NC**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: So glad everyone liked the last chapter and Dean's attire. For those who are wondering about the trunk, can't give away all our secrets, but you will find out more in the upcoming chapters. I want to say again was an absolute thrill it is writing with Chick Feed on this, it seems like we have a psychic link or something. She is the best! Thanks you to all who are following, have favored and have left us reviews. If you can take a moment please review.**

**NC**

* * *

**C25**

-oOo-

Sam hastily made his way back to the kitchen with clothes in his arms and quickly pushed them into his brother's free arm before pulling Dean's chair, complete with Dean, away from the table. His hand on Dean's back, Sam muttered at him unhappily, making it clear this wasn't a debate.

"Go put some clothes on. I don't like my body being displayed for everyone to ogle at."

"I'm goin', don't push."

Dean grumbled under his breath as he shoved the bite of pie in his mouth and left the room, Missouri erupting into laughter again at Dean's rear view. Bobby winked at Sam, unable to resist teasing as the blush rose up Sam's face again.

"Didn't know purple was your colour Sam."

Between giggles, Missouri defended the embarrassed young man.

"Awe, leave the boy alone, he can't help it if his brother has no shame, now can he? And it's lilac, not purple. I think the colour quite suits him."

This just made Sam's blush deepen, he was _so_ going to get Dean back for this.

-o-

Grinning as he walked down the hall in jeans and a white tee, Dean straightened his face before sauntering back into the room and sat down to finish his pie and coffee. Looking up, he saw three sets of eyes staring at him like they were waiting for him to say something prevalent.

"What? Can't a man have his pie in peace?" he mused popping another bite in his mouth and chewing madly.

Sam rolled his eyes as he watched himself carelessly chomping on the pie and dropping crumbs on his shirt and table. Sometimes Sam wondered how they were even related. Still smirking, Bobby poured another cup of coffee.

"How ya feeling boy?"

"Better, why? Did you find something out?"

Sam sat down and offered Dean a napkin, hoping he would take the hint.

"We think the box had some sort of spell on it and you might have triggered it when you touched it."

Snatching the napkin from his brother's hand and putting it by his plate, Dean frowned.

"But, I didn't feel any different."

"There was something definitely there child. Whew, the evil that radiated off it when we opened the trunk..."

Dean rounded on his brother, cutting Missouri off before she could finish.

"Sam I told you not to open the trunk without me!"

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Not _the trunk_, the trunk of your car, dumb ass. What do you take us for amateurs?"

Dean screwed Sam's face up in an expression of exaggerated concentration, as if he had to think on the matter before answering. Bobby huffed and drained his coffee.

"Don't strain yerself there jack ass. I gotta go do a little mixin' and matchin'."

Sam stood up and began picking up plates from the table.

"Missouri, you go on and start your research; we'll clean up in here."

"Why thank you child, mind you no broken dishes, yer hear me both of you?"

"Yes ma'am."

Turning to Dean, Sam was in time to catch Dean making a face at him. He smirked at his older brother.

"Forget it Dean. Whatever face you're trying to make it's not working. It looks more like you're constipated."

"Damn and I thought I had that one." Dean quipped.

-o-

"Do you want to wash or dry?"

"Wash."

Dean picked up his empty plate and cup and popped them in the sink. As he bent down to rummage in the under sink cupboard for dish washing liquid, Sam was heartily grateful that Dean was no longer wearing Missouri's robe. Humming to himself, Dean squirted a glob of the thick blue liquid into the running water, smiling as he watched the bubbles mount. Satisfied, he turned the tap off and plopped in the dirty dishes, immediately causing the water level to rise enough to send bubbles and water over the sink side and into the floor.

"Crap!" he muttered.

He hurriedly attempted to use his body to dam the escaping foam of bubbles and stop any more from jumping ship, whilst also trying to re-direct the water from the counter back into the sink. Sam watched the whole process with interest.

"Well, looks like you're offering to mop the floor up too."

"Bite me."

Dean quickly began washing the plates and cups, handing them on to Sam who, very irritatingly, studied each one before rinsing and drying them. He reached around behind Dean and dropped one of the plates back in to the sudsy water.

"Not clean. Try to remember Dean; there are _two _sides to every plate."

Dean squared his shoulders and gave Sam his best bitch face before holding the plate up and, way more carefully than was necessary, washing it again, peering closely at every inch, front and back, before giving Sam a slight bow as he handed it over.

"Hey, that one's pretty good! See? You _can_ do it properly. Now, you go look for a mop while I finish off drying and putting away."

"You know, you're starting to get reeeaal bossy Samantha! Don't go lettin' it become a habit."

"I dunno...I'm kinda liking bein' the older bossier one for a change."

-o-

"Boys? Got a question."

Bobby started when he saw first, the mess in the floor, and then Dean appearing with the front of his tee dripping wet and a mop in his hand. He shook his head, looking from Dean to the floor and back. Dean promptly switched on Sam's best _Why you lookin' at me? I'm cute an' innocent_ expression. Bobby shook his head again.

"_Unbelievable_! Werewolves, Wendigo, Vamps and Daemons? No problem. But leave you to wash a few dishes? _Kitchen Apocalypse_! What did I come in for?...Oh yeah, my question. Which one of you chuckle heads has the key to the trunk?"

Dean rested on his mop, ignoring how awkward and bent over his move to look casual turned out to be when attempted from Sam's height, and smirked.

"Um...And which trunk, exactly, would that be Bobby?"

Bobby rolled his eyes at Dean and turned to watch Sam searching his pockets, triumphantly pulling out the key to Usagi's trunk.

"Here. I've been keeping hold of it."

"So, Lucenda gave it to you, you've had it ever since then?"

Sam nodded.

"You both sure Dean hasn't had the key at all?"

"We're _sure_...Why?"

"I've got a theory. You bein' the only one had it since it was given to you means I'm probably right. Come on Sam, we need to move the trunk out of the car, maybe to the back yard, there should be room there."

"Room for what? And, _Probably_?"

"I think once that spell was breached, it was done with, a one shot. But, to be on the safe side, we're going to do a counter spell for any lingering remnants."

"Hold on both of you. I'm coming too."

Dean was already abandoning the mop and drying his hands as he butted in.

Bobby looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry son. You need to stay out of this for now since I figure it was probably you triggered the spell. Can't take any chances by lettin' you get involved. If I'm right, Sam here's protected, you're not."

Dean huffed.

"Why's that?"

"He's got the key, _willingly_ given to him. If I've done my research properly, being the keeper of the key? It's kinda like Sam's been given the right level of security clearance and means he should be protected from the effects of any booby spells."

Sam turned to Bobby and mouthed _Booby spells? Really?_ Dean used the couple of seconds to consider; then held out his hand to his brother.

"Nope...Not liking that...Sam. Give me the key."

Dean made it sound like an order, instantly annoying the younger man. Sam answered defiantly, matching his brother's posture with his version of Dean's stubborn _Not gonna happen_ glare.

"No! You're injured, and beside, you've already been zapped. The key's mine Dean. You can't take it, I have to give it to you willingly, and I ain't willin'! End of."

Leaving the pair to their stare off, Bobby took himself into the utility room and grabbed a box of disposable gloves. Returning he tore the box open and handing Sam a pair. Wordlessly, he pulled out a pair for himself and headed toward to front door. Sam and Dean trailed behind him curious to see what Bobby was going to do. They watched whilst Bobby searched the trunk of his car, moving bags and boxes around. He finally produced two pair of leather work gloves and handed a pair to Sam.

"Put these on over the latex ones and let's get that mother out of there and around back."

-o-

Sam opened the Impala's trunk and stared at Usagi's trunk thoughtfully. He never really got a good look at it back at Lucenda's before Dean had put it in the back of the Impala. It was an old-fashioned steamer trunk from around the late 1800's, the casing made of wood and then bound over with sturdy wood and metal strips. Much of the original green and white chequered covering had ripped and torn off over time, the bare wood had darkened with age and the original gleaming metal furnishings now looked blackened and rusty.

"You take one side and I'll get the other." Bobby instructed Sam as he grasped the handle on his side.

"It's heavier than it looks." Dean cautioned them standing back, but watching carefully.

Bobby grunted as they lifted it out and began to walk toward the back yard.

"Damn, he's right. I'm surprised you managed to carry this on your own Dean. Grab some salt and at least half pint of holy water will ya?"

"Sure."

"Right here's good Sam, set it down." Bobby grunted as they sat the trunk on a rock patio in the back yard. He made sure to have it a good distance from the house not wanting any negative mojo getting inside before they were ready.


	26. Chapter 26

**C26**

-oOo-

They sat the trunk down on a brick patio just outside the screened in porch. Sam stepped back as he watched the sun come from behind a cloud and shine down on it for the first time. Looking closer at the front of it, he could make out symbols that had been burned into trunk around the lock; the area was too dirty and dark to make them out easily.

"Ok, now pour a ring of salt around the box and then stand back, take this with you Sam."

Bobby handed Dean a book opened to a page of fancy script.

"I'm Dean Bobby. Did you want me to have this? Or did you mean to give it to Sammy?"

Snatching the book back off Dean, he heard Bobby mutter _Come on Singer, get a grip_ _idjit _to himself as he handed the book over to the real Sam. Dean frowned; it made him uncomfortable to see the sign of nervousness in the man that he and Sam relied on so heavily, frequently turning to when _they_ couldn't cope, when _they_ were feeling less than certain. Rarely did either of them think about the impact on Bobby when they were placing the responsibility on his shoulders to put things right, provide the info they needed, find the answers when they themselves couldn't; or even put his own life at risk by coming to them when they needed a rescue. Feeling guilty, Dean reached out, putting a hand on the older Hunter's shoulder.

"Hey Bobby, thanks for being here, man. If everything works out in the end, it'll be down to you. You're the best."

"Yeah right. Whatever."

Bobby stuck a hand in the pocket of his denim and pulled out a jar full of a dull pink gel like substance and a cloth.

"Sam? I need you to read this damn passage out loud while I brush this shit around the lock on the trunk. Ok?"

"Yup. Whatever you want Bobby, and just so's you know? It doesn't matter whether this works or not. We trust you Bobby...You just say when."

Dean shot Sam a small smile, glad that his brother had also picked up on Bobby's worry. Bobby glanced between the brothers. His murmured _Damned knuckle heads_ would have been more effective, had his lips not been curled up into a smile.

"Ok..._When._"

Dean's voice sounded clear and confident as Sam read the passage from the book whilst Bobby used the cloth to coat the lock and the surrounding symbols with the pink gloop.

"We pray to the Bringer of Light and all that is holy,

Denounce any and all evil that surrounds this object.

Twisted, Tangled, Hobbled and Bound,

Commit all Evil to the ground.

Cast aside the darkness and allow the light,

Unbind that, which was bound,

Cleanse that, which was dark,

No more to harm those who touch. Amen."

With one final stroke, Bobby lit a match and held it to the gloop. The mixture flared instantly, burning with a sizzling green flame that briefly sent plumes of acrid grey smoke into the air. The fire quickly died back, and a dank, sickly, odour followed that seemed to determinedly hang around the trunk.

The three hunters stood around the trunk eyeing it carefully. No one made a move toward it as Missouri came out of the house.

"Landsakes boys! Which one of you's responsible for making my yard smell like the very grave?"

Po faced, both Sam and Dean pointed to Bobby. Stepping down off the porch, Missouri sniffed the air as she got closer to the trunk. Spotting the scorch marks, she turned to Bobby.

"Bobby Singer. Have you been tryin' to set fire to the place?"

"You know damn well that I haven't woman. I think we've dispelled whatever was attached to this thing now. Do you feel anything?"

Bobby looked to Missouri for her response. Missouri walked closer to the trunk and held her hand out, slowly moving it through the air around the trunk, her faced scrunched in concentration.

"Whatever I first felt is gone sure enough, but there is still _something_ there. I'm sensin' something inside. Opening this thing up is our next step, we'll need to do it with a whole lot of care, mind you. I'd be happy if it could be put on the porch table, not sure I want it in my house until we know what's in it. I assume that's alright with all of you?

-o-

Bobby and Sam once again lifted the trunk and followed Missouri up the steps and to the screened in porch, sitting the trunk down on the table and then stepping back. All four stood around the table eyeing the object, trying to decide if what they were about to do was one of the wisest choices they'd made?

"Do you recognize the symbols on the front here?"

Sam looked to both Bobby and Missouri, pointing at the patterns and pictures. Missouri squinted at the half burnt out symbols.

"Dean? Go get a bucket and some rags, let's see if we can wipe that off to see them easier. Quickly now sweetie."

Dean mumbled to himself under his breath as he set off heading for the kitchen.

"Fetch this, stand there, don't do that; _everyone's_ getting bossy around me today!"

Missouri called to him.

"I heard that."

Without turning around, Dean cringed and faltered in his step before continuing inside. Sam walked slowly around the trunk, looking at it carefully from every angle, checking for any tell-tale hidden dangers. When he was as satisfied as he could be that there were no unexpected surprises lying in wait, he turned to check with Bobby.

"You think it's safe to open now?"

Bobby moved closer to the trunk, bending to peer for himself at the symbols around the lock as he answered.

"Only by you, son, since you've got the key and are now the owner."

Returning from his errand, Dean sat both the pail and rags on the table. Opening the bottle of Holy water, he poured it into the pail.

"Ok. All ready here. I guess I don't get to do the cleaning either?"

Bobby shook his head.

"No, sorry. That would be your brother's job."

Dean stepped away, giving Sam room to reach the pail and rags.

"Sammy, you be careful. You understand?"

With a nod, Sam picked up a rag and wet it with the holy water before gingerly wiping the front of the trunk. The remainder of the symbols became gradually clearer as he rubbed a little harder at them.

"Have you ever seen these kinds of things before anywhere?"

Bobby straightened up and shrugged both shoulders.

"Some parts look kinda familiar. How about you Missouri? You seen anythin' like it before?"

"I have, but I'm not familiar enough to feel confident translating them. My grandmother left me some books, we might find some of these identified somewhere in those. Otherwise, we'd need someone like a conjure woman to translate them for us."

Taking Bobby's place, Missouri bent down closer to the trunk and symbols, concentrating and waiting a moment, trying to detect any other spells or dangerous powers. For now, everything seemed ok and she stepped aside.

"Sam, child? You want to see what we have here?"

Sam nervously pulled the key from his pocket and gave each one a momentary look before stepping closer. He inserted the key and was about to turn it when Dean yelled.

"_Wait_! Wait! I'll be right back."

He rushed off into the house. When he came back out, he was clutching safety glasses and two paper dust masks. He handed the glasses and face masks to Sam and Bobby, nodding at them to suit up. Dean and Missouri stood a safe distance back waiting for the unveiling.

"Better safe than sorry, don't know what will happen when it's opened."

His voice slightly muffled from behind his mask, Bobby stared at Sam through his ungainly glasses.

"Ok Sam, time to see what we got here."

Holding his breath, Sam gave the key a slow turn, surprised to find it moved smoothly in the lock. Not taking his eyes off Sam, every muscle in the body currently accommodating Dean was tensed and ready to react at the smallest sign of his little brother being in trouble. They all heard a distinct click, signalling the lock was sprung. Taking another deep breath and holding it, Sam carefully and slowly lifted the lid of the trunk, every sense alert in case he had to back off fast. He pushed the lid over and gazed into the opening. Everyone else leaned over from where they stood, trying to get a look for the first time at the contents of the mysterious trunk.

-o-

On first glance it was a little disappointing. They could see books, old tattered clothes, a bundle of purple candles tied together with a faded red ribbon, a few objects wrapped in cloths and a handmade metal bowl. Sam stepped away, leaving the area clear for Missouri. No one moved all eyes were now on Missouri, waiting for her to tell them if it was safe to come closer and remove any items. Steeling herself and muttering a short prayer, Missouri again began passing both hands slowly over the contents of the trunk. Her hands paused over an object nestling in a back corner of the trunk. The hidden contents were wrapped in pure white silk which still looked to be in pristine condition, a fine red cord had been twisted around the silk, ensuring that it remained wrapped around the contents. Where the two ends of the cord came together, they were fixed in place by a fully intact nut-brown coloured wax seal, a circle had been impressed into the centre of the wax and within the circle was a complex pattern of other shapes and lines.

"_Oh my_!"

Missouri's hands dropped to her sides and she rapidly stepped back away from the trunk, her eyes wide, and her mouth open in an "O". Dean was the fastest to respond, going to her and placing his hands on her shoulders, gently turning the shocked woman to face him.

"Missouri, you're ok. You hear me? I've got you, you're fine. It's whatever's wrapped up in the white silk, isn't it? What's upset you Missouri? Can you tell me what you felt?"

Missouri gazed up at Dean, her features beginning to relax as she stared into the warm hazel eyes. Almost unconsciously she stretched up and stroked her hand over the long chestnut hair, as if using the action to calm herself further. Nodding up at Dean, she signalled she was ok, despite clearly having been left worried and distressed. Patting him on the chest, she turned to gaze at Sam and, finally, stepping back from Dean she turned to face Bobby who, like Sam, had removed his mask and glasses. Bobby strode up to her and Missouri reached out, clasping both his hands in hers. As she studied Bobby's face, she had a growing sense that, somehow, he and she were destined to stand together like they never previously had before this thing could be marked "Case Closed".

"Bobby honey...It's her...Usagi...She...She's in there."

"_Balls_!"

* * *

**So we now know so of the things in the trunk, but what else could be lurking in there? Hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always thank you to all who are following, have favored and who have left reviews. Please review.  
**

**NC**


	27. Chapter 27

**C27**

-oOo-

Dean was first to break the silence, with an attempt to alleviate the palpable tension that bound the group.

"Odd...I sorta' had her down as taller."

He instantly garnered a distinctly _Not amused_ glare from Sam that left Dean wondering, not for the first time, about his brother's amazing ability to say nothing, but to do it very loudly. He was saved from any long drawn out Sammy lecture by an odd sound coming from both Missouri and Bobby. He and Sam stared. Missouri's shoulders were shaking and she had her forehead pressed against Bobby's chest. It was Bobby's failed attempts to keep the sound of his laughter from escaping that clued the brothers in to the fact that Missouri wasn't crying as they had initially thought. No, instead she was attempting to muffle the sound of her giggles. The brothers watched in bemused amazement as the older couple gradually broke down and dissolved into fits of open laughter. Missouri glanced back over her shoulder at Dean on one occasion, then she and Bobby were suddenly clinging to one another, both with tears streaming down their faces as their laughter grew to the point where it verged on hysteria. Sam and Dean turned to each other, Dean shrugged.

"Damned if _I_ know."

-o-

Inside, Missouri and Bobby clinked their glasses together, then threw their heads back; both gulping down the generous shot of whisky that Bobby had poured for them in one swift swallow, slamming their glasses down on the table top at exactly the same time. Missouri reached for the bottle and re-filled both glasses. From where they stood, side by side leaning up against a kitchen counter, Sam and Dean looked on in silence. Seeing the normally genteel Missouri knock back her whisky in one swift gulp had sent Dean's world into tilt. Since childhood he had cultivated a very specific image of Missouri. _Hard drinking, whisky swilling woman_ had never been a part of that picture. He was relieved to see that she was taking her time and sipping at her second glass normally. Sam cleared his throat.

"So er, you think Usagi, well her ashes or something, are locked up in that trunk outside on the porch?"

Bobby raised his glass in Sam and Dean's direction.

"That about sums it up kid. Her Royal Hoodooness herself, or rather what's left of her, just hanging around in a locked box out on the back. Devil's trap to the left of her, Devil's trap to the right."

Dean straightened up.

"Well that's great for her...But what _we_ want to know is what happens next? Or are you two plannin' on just workin' your way down that bottle?"

Missouri giggled, unintentionally tilting Dean's world a little further.

"I think you just got a tellin' off, old man."

Bobby nodded, looking completely unconcerned.

"I think you could be right, old woman."

Dean stared between them both, but before he could say anything more, Sam grabbed him by the arm and began to pull him away.

"C'mon. We might as well see if we can find anything about those symbols, leave these two in peace."

-o-

As soon as Bobby was certain the brothers had shut themselves away in their room, he looked seriously across the table at the equally now subdued Missouri.

"We need to get that thing indoors Missouri; you know we can't just leave it out on the porch. So, we need to get this place protected."

"I know that Bobby, but you can't blame me for not cheering that I'm allowing her and her things into my house. Purple candles Bobby. Didn't you see them?"

"I saw 'em, but you know yourself, while they're not in use and they haven't been prepared, they're just candles. Gotta say old girl, I wasn't expectin' the ashes!"

Missouri's eyes narrowed.

"Assuming that's what we've got of her. We can surely make good use of them."

Bobby cast the psychic a questioning look.

"How so?"

"Put it this way cupcake. I can guarantee the summoning will work, provided we can get hold of blood from someone related to this bitch. How would you feel about going to have a chat with our Lucenda? She sounds like a sweet girl, I'm sure she would be happy to oblige. The boys and I can do the protection work. I think we both should keep a close eye on them and not let them go off anywhere now. Not until we put things back how they should be. How does that sound?"

Bobby gave Missouri a knowing smile.

"Sneaky when you wanna be, aren't you woman? I had a feelin' you knew more about Hoodoo than you let on. Why so secretive about it?"

"Why Bobby, you should know that a woman needs to keep an air of mystery about herself. Anyway, I wouldn't want anyone to know _everything_ about me and mine!"

"So, you're tellin' me there's things about you I don't know?"

"Of course. Tell me, do those two boys upstairs know everything about _you_, dear?"

Bobby considered Missouri's question, images from his past flashing through his mind.

"They _think_ they do."

"Then, sugar, I rest my case."

-o-

Sam and Dean were slumped in overstuffed arm chairs thumbing through ancient text trying to find the origins of the symbols. A shared notebook had notes jotted down, Dean's neat and precise, Sam's as usual dotted down on whatever part of the page he could reach. They looked up together when Bobby and Missouri walked into the room. Dean eyed them cautiously.

"You two dun hefting the bottle?"

Bobby was shucking on his old denim jacket.

"I've quit, but Missouri's gonna see the bottle off."

Missouri grinned and gave Dean a wink. He stared back at her, and then shook his head.

"Unbelievable! So what about you? Off to buy more are you?"

"I might, later. Right now I'm goin' to call in on your friend Lucenda. Missouri here thinks she's got somethin' that'll help us."

Sam was immediately curious.

"Do we get to know what that is?"

"Her blood...And before you go thinkin' anythin' completely ass brained. _No_, not all of it."

Dean started trying to wiggle up out of the chair.

"Wait. I'll come with you."

Missouri held a hand up.

"No sugar. Not this time. I need you both to stay here with me and help me get this place ready."

Sam put aside the book he was holding

"Ready for what?"

"We've got to put protections throughout this house. I'll not have that she-devil's belongings coming into my home till I'm sure it's good and safe. I'll need a hand to get it done."

Dean had finally managed to extract himself from his armchair.

"So, Sam can stay an' I'll ride along with Bobby. It won't need the two of us to stay, right?"

"Wrong. Why, you're the tallest of us Dean. You can reach the high spots and then I'll need both you and your brother to bring that thing on my porch indoors"

Missouri patted Dean's arm as she spoke. Dean sighed and glanced back at Sam dejectedly.

"Damnit. Just when I was thinkin' it was fun being the taller one!"

-o-

Hanging up on Lucenda, Dean gave a thumbs up to where Bobby sat waiting in his truck.

"Ok. You're good to go, she'll be expecting you. I've left it for you to explain to her what you need and why. When you get there, watch out for Zeus and Sampson, her dogs. They're on the ball and protective of her. Bobby? I haven't told her what Missouri felt inside that trunk. Thought you'd be better doin' that face to face. I don't _think _she'll start freakin' out, but... Oh and just...I want it to be her choice, you know? Whether to help us or not?"

Bobby smiled down at the younger hunter.

"I hear you. No rough stuff so, if she says _No, _guess I'll just have to turn on the old Singer charm."

"Seriously? There _is_ such a thing? Seriously though Bobby, if she agrees, there won't be any unwelcome fallout from all this on her, will there? Only, if there's a chance that's gonna happen, Sam and me? We'll need to have a talk, _before_ you go anywhere, about whether we're gonna still go through with this. That woman's been through too much already, you know?"

Bobby's thoughtful gaze only just stopped short of making Dean squirm. Bobby finally gave one nod.

"She'll be fine son. We'll make certain of it ... Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You and Sam. You're both good men. I'm proud of you; I just wanted you to hear that."

Dean coughed, feeling himself flush red.

"Get outta here old man. You're an embarrassment. Drive safe."

-o-

Missouri was a monument to efficiency.

"Sam honey? Go look in the hall closet on the bottom shelf, you'll find a white table-cloth with markings on it and bring it to me. Dean, you go look in the shed in the back yard, I have herbs drying in there, I need two bunches of the one on the right. That's your right as you face them, got that? And no pokin' around while you're there young man!"

"Yes ma'am, um, no ma'am, um. _Jeeze_. No pokin' around, gottit."

Sam grinned as he watched Missouri shooing Dean out of the kitchen.

"You _do_ know that's a bit like sayin' Dean, don't help yourself to that fresh-baked pie, don't you?"

"Now Sammy, you should have a little more faith in your brother sometimes. And didn't I just give you a chore to do?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm on it."

-o-

Missouri was left standing alone in her kitchen. She gazed around at the inviting and welcoming home she had created and cherished. Familiar creaks and soft rustling could be heard around her.

"Whatever happens here, whatever damage might be done to all this...It's not gonna stop us from seeing those boys right, ok?"

Only Missouri witnessed the movement in the curtains hanging at the closed window and felt the warmth of a brief gentle breeze, soft and reassuring against her cheek.

* * *

**Thank you to all who are still making this journey with us, to all who have favored and are following you're the best. A very special thank you to those who have left reviews, you know who you are, so happy to see you are enjoying the story. Wow 77 reviews, hope we can break 100. It only takes a moment, even if it's just a few words, please review.**

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	28. Chapter 28

**_Message from the authors : In recognition of this being a non-factual story written to entertain, whilst we have referred to some aspects of Hoodoo practice and beliefs, the rituals described herein have been altered and adapted and are, therefore, purely fictional. No offence is intended to practitioners of the Hoodoo religion._**

**C28**

-oOo-

Sam came back with the table-cloth in hand and helped Missouri spread it out over the long table. He looked closely at the intricate symbols hand embroidered around the edges of the cloth, recognizing the similarities in design to those which had been on the outside of Usagi's trunk and to some of the information he had garnered from the books he and Dean had searched through.

"What do these represent?"

"Mostly they're for protection and containment. We'll be putting the trunk on the cloth when we bring it indoors, along with some black candles. The protections we're going to put around the place will be centred here. This is where, if I do things right, the protective shields will be at their most powerful. Hopefully powerful enough to prevent any bad mojo from being released and spreading through the house."

"Wow! How do you know all this stuff?"

"Does a magician give away the secrets to_ their_ craft? I know what I know, and that's all _you_ need to know! Now where is that brother of yours? He_ can _tell his right hand from his left, he knows which is which, doesn't he? You _did _both watch Sesame Street when you were wee ones I assume?"

Sam snickered at the reference, remembering how Dean loved Animal from the show, even though he would never admit it. Sam heard the back door open and close; he couldn't help but smile widely when Dean walked back in carrying two good-sized bundles of herbs.

Dean hesitated, eyeing Sam suspiciously, trying to figure out what was so funny.

"What did I miss?"

Missouri was twitching her lips and biting the lower one to restrain her grin.

Still smiling, Sam shook his head.

"Nothing really, just reminiscing is all."

"And why am I thinking it's something about me again? Leaving you two together when I'm not around's bad for my paranoia levels, like they aren't high enough already!"

Missouri closed in on Dean and impulsively hugged him.

"Oh hush up sweetie; we're only laughing with love. Now, those herbs need breaking down and tying into smaller bunches. You'll find string and scissors in that drawer. I need enough for each of the rooms and to hang over the doors front and back. You can lay everything out on top of the cloth and work there. Go on both of you, I'll make us a nice cup of tea."

Sam and Dean looked at one another, Dean's eyes flicked over to the half empty bottle of whisky standing on the kitchen counter and back to Sam, mouthing _Tea_?

-o-

Lucenda and the dogs were already outside when Bobby pulled up. He grinned when he saw the dogs come running up to the truck barking. Climbing out, he was already talking to them in friendly tones and holding out a hand for them to sniff.

"Now then my good boys. Ain't you gotta lot to say for yourselves my handsome lads?"

Lucenda walked across wiping her hands on her jeans before holding one out to her visitor.

"Mr Singer? I'm Lucenda and these here are Zeus and Sampson. Pleased to meet you in person."

Bobby grinned as he shook the young woman's hand and Lucenda was surprised to instantly find herself warming to the older man with his kind eyes, friendly smile and air of self-confidence. She suspected that this was a man who, when you were his friend, would not let you down.

"Call me Bobby. That's two fine lookin' dogs you've got there."

-o-

Missouri carried two mugs of steaming tea over to the two busy brothers.

"Now, let's see how you're getting on...That's looking real good boys. I've got something I need to do so I'll leave you both to take them and hang them. Every room will need one, don't forget the utility now. They should be hung at the window in each area. Got that?"

Sam and Dean both nodded.

"Don't forget to put one over the front door and the same at the back. I'll be in my study, that's the room opposite the lounge. And I'll be needing to concentrate, so no interruptions unless I call for you."

Ever keen to learn something new that might prove a useful addition to their skills, Sam was curious.

"What are you going to be doing?"

"I have to prepare my candles. Otherwise they'll be ineffective. Feel free to make yourselves some lunch if I'm still busy by the time you're done. You both clear on what I'm asking?"

Combined nods answered her.

"Good. Here's your tea, I want you both to drink it all up now, understand?"

Sam looked at the yellow liquid filling his cup, frowning at the loose leaves floating on its surface. Dean was giving his a wary sniff, immediately scrunching his nose. Sam glanced back up at Missouri who was hovering as if waiting to make sure they both drank.

"Is this a part of what we're doing here?"

"Yes it is. So, Dean Winchester, don't you go throwing it down the sink! There's nothing in there going to poison you, child, quite the opposite. It's an added precaution while you two and that trunk are under the same roof, so get it drunk. Sammy? You make certain your brother finishes it."

"Don't worry, he'll drink it."

Satisfied she could safely leave Sam and Dean, Missouri took her leave of them and headed down to her locked private study.

-o-

Entering the room, Missouri walked silently across the thick carpet covering the floor and directly to an alcove within the room which had been fronted with a pair of floor to ceiling cupboard doors. Opening both doors, she gazed at the altar before her.

"Time to get to work Missouri old girl. Now, where did I put those candles?"

-o-

Lucenda sat on her sofa staring in disbelief at Bobby who sat opposite her.

"You're not kidding, are you? Hell's Bells! All this time my great-great grandmother's remains were in the store-room over the shed? I can't quite believe it! It's so..._Creepy_! If I'd known, I'd have got rid of that damn trunk years ago. There's no wonder that side of my family wanted it so badly. _Crap_! To think what might've happened if they'd ever got their hands on it! Know what? I think I need somethin' stronger than coffee. Would you like to join me? There's beer, bourbon, or I've got a single malt."

Bobby smiled sympathetically at the pale and shaken young woman.

"I'll have whatever you're having, thank you."

"Bourbon it is then. Double? Or treble?"

Bobby gave a short laugh.

"I'll stick with a single if that's ok by you, but don't mind me, you go for it. It's a helluva thing to take on board."

"_That's_ an understatement. Jeeze, it's so freakin'..._Creepy_!"

"I think you said that already."

"I'm trying to keep it clean. Believe me. There's a whole lotta other words I could be usin' right now!"

-o-

"Ah! There you are."

Missouri extracted a black candle out of one of three wooden boxes stored underneath her alter and popped it into a short but ornate grey pewter candle holder which she placed in a central place on a black cloth covering her alter area. Taking pride of place on her altar was a foot high crucifix. The plain, undecorated symbol was carved from black onyx that had been polished almost to a mirror shine. To the left of the crucifix, she placed a simple white metal bowl and a folded face towel, next came a small silver flask filled with Holy Water. On the right hand side of the bowl she placed a delicate bone handled, silver bladed pen knife and alongside that, an antique aqua coloured glass ink bottle containing blue ink. The final items were a piece of parchment paper and a tiny, slender, old-fashioned dipper pen carved out of ash wood. Once her items were in place, Missouri knelt in front of the altar. Reaching for the flask, she unscrewed the top and splashed some of the Holy Water on to her hands and rubbed them together. That done, she bowed her head and recited a short prayer, stating her goals, confirming her good intentions and asking that she be granted the powers to succeed. Lifting her head again, she was ready to begin her cleansing of the candle, the first part of Missouri's Hoodoo ritual.

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**Hope you enjoyed, thanks you so much to all who have favored and are following our story and especially for your kind reviews. Please review.**

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